


Freeloaders

by erinx



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hate to Love, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, emotionally constipated bughead, roommates au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2019-09-21 20:08:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 49,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17049761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erinx/pseuds/erinx
Summary: After Betty gets kicked out of her house, she ends up crashing at Veronica’s. The only problem? She has to share a room with Veronica’s other guest: the boy she’s hated since forever, Jughead Jones.





	1. The Pembrooke

Take a daughter who didn’t come home for a weekend and a mother who stayed home for the weekend, mixed in with the tension from all the years of family drama, and you get a rage fight by the staircase.

“OUT. I want you _out_ of this house, young lady,” Alice fumed, stomping downstairs behind Betty. “First you have the nerve to come home after disappearing for two nights, and then you talk to me that way?”

“And now you’re kicking me out? Like you did with dad?” Betty seethed, her hand holding a messily stuffed duffel bag (that was barely zipped through). When she stepped on the last stair, she made sure to scrape her muddy sneakers just to provoke her mother further.

See, while Betty was fully aware of the fact that she had crossed multiple lines that afternoon (especially when she mentioned the rascal that was Forsythe Pendleton Jones II), she wasn’t expecting to be kicked out of her own house. Betty could feel her blood boiling under her skin at the sight of her angry mother – what gave her the right to kick her daughter out the doors? There was nothing she could do, however. Legally speaking, her dad had custody (and there was absolutely no way she was going back to _that_ hellhole).

Still, though, Betty wasn’t going to let her guard down. She wasn’t going to give up without a fight. If anything, she was getting kicked out either way (and much to her misguided judgment, she figured it would be beneficial on her end to add more salt to the bleeding wound).

“Don’t come running back here when it’s convenient for you again. I mean it,” her mother said sharply.

Betty rolled her eyes, opening the door and tossing her duffel bag outside (a few clothes managed to fall out, too). “Now what, mom? Where do I go? Dad’s?” She asked loudly and testily. “You’ll really allow me to live with the guy _you_ couldn’t bear living with?”

“Oh, you’ll figure that out. Since you’re so grown up now, aren’t you?” Her mother retorted sarcastically, rage flowing through every vein her body. Then, exasperated, she added, “Why did you turn out to be such an entitled brat?”

“Hmm. I don’t know, mom. Who raised me?” Betty shot back in a mocking tone.

“I am _through_ with you,” she finished as Betty stepped outside.

Before Betty could say anything else, Alice slammed the door in her face, so Betty stood facing the wooden barricade that stood in between her and the woman who was supposed to be her mother.

Betty sat on the steps, grudgingly picking up her fallen sweaters and stuffing them inside the duffel bag. She zipped it shut, placing the big lump on her lap. She then brought out her phone from her pocket (which was at the groundbreaking number of one percent) and dialed the only person she could turn to at the moment.

Two rings later, “B? You okay? Are you back?” Veronica’s perky voice sounded pleasantly to her ears.

Betty stood up, one hand with the phone to her ear and the other holding the duffel bag. She walked down and out the lot before saying, “Hey, V. Yes, I’m back, but no, actually. I’m not okay. I got kicked out.”

“Of your house?!” Veronica said, appalled. Betty could already hear Veronica’s feet shuffling, probably to start some elaborate plan to get things back into order.

Betty began walking faster down the block. “Yeah. You know how I spiraled and booked two nights at the Five Seasons Hotel and didn’t contact her?” Betty started, and suddenly she was burning with rage all over again. “I came back and she was in a horrible mood. She wouldn’t stop yapping about how I had no right to come home since I had no right to leave. But in my defense, _she_ was the one who started controlling my every movement just because she couldn’t control Polly! I was just so mad at her that I brought up - ”

“Shh, shh. It’s okay. You’re more than welcome to stay at the Pembroo - ”

And that was when her phone died.

“Ughhhhhh,” Betty grumbled, stuffing her phone back in her pocket.

She turned around, heading in the direction of Archie’s house, almost forgetting that he was her neighbor. Archie was her other best friend, and while he was dating Veronica Lodge, he was nothing like her. Truth be told, his loyalty didn’t mean he was dependable. Though she had only known Veronica for a year, Veronica was easier to rely on.

When she finally arrived at his doorstep, she dropped the duffel bag on the floor, feeling her left arm’s strain pretty badly. She knocked on the wooden door, and after hearing Fred Andrews’s voice go “Archie! Get the door!” and his dog Vegas’s adorable howl, she heard the sound of soles hitting the staircase and then the creak of the door open.

Archie stood in front of her, wearing a plain shirt and basketball shorts. He was all sweaty, too, which meant he was probably lifting weights or whatever. Fitness stuff Betty had no motivation for. “Betty, sup?” he said, arms at his sides. He seemed oblivious to the fact that she was red from anger and that there was a duffel bag at her feet.

Betty tried to hold a smile. “Hey, if it’s not too much, can you drive me to Veronica’s?”

 

* * *

 

“Your bag’s like, way too small, Betty. Do you have enough clothes for the week?” Archie asked, eyes on the road, right after she recounted the whole story. Archie had also just called Veronica to say they were on their way.

Betty sighed. “Unfortunately, I have like, four sweaters and no pajamas and like, twenty dollars,” she replied. “Oh, and these are my only shoes,” she added, pointing down at her muddy white Keds.

Archie cringed when he looked down, probably because her shoes were staining his car, which Betty felt horribly sorry for, so she lifted them up, just above the car’s floor. Not that it counted.

“Nah, it’s cool. I’m getting the carpet washed soon, anyway,” Archie said, seeing her feet go up. Betty knew though that the carpet was newly washed (they were extra clean), and Archie just said that to make her feel better. Still, the thought remained, and maybe he wasn’t so bad at comforting people after all. “So, you’re not coming back anytime soon, huh?”

“Yup. Dad getting kicked out when I was in fourth grade was the final straw right before the divorce, so…” Betty said.

“Oh,” Archie said. And after a few second of silence, he spoke again. “Ronnie’ll probably loan you some clothes. Then when your mom’s at work, she’ll probably help you sneak in to get the rest of your clothes. Anyway, I’m sure your mom’ll let you back in soon enough. There’s a difference between a failed marriage and a rebel child – believe me, I’d know.”

“You have a point,” Betty said thoughtfully. Archie’s parents were divorced and he had a major rebel streak in sophomore year, but his dad never kicked him out. “But supposedly I live with my dad.”

“But your mom raised you more than your dad did, and my dad raised me more than my mom did. So I think I still have a better point,” Archie finished.

“Okay, point taken – I’ll be back one day. But we have school tomorrow, and all my school stuff are in my room,” Betty grumbled, leaning against the car window.

“Ronnie has an extra copy of each of our required books because she can and probably a whole room for stationery. You’ll be fine,” Archie reassured her, running a hand through his red hair. “And here we are,” he finished, stopping in front of The Pembrooke.

Veronica was already waiting by the foyer when they walked inside. Archie was holding Betty’s duffel for her. And even though it was a lazy, stay-at-home Sunday, Veronica wore her usual ensemble of a Peter Pan collared blouses and skirts and black heels.

“Oh, Betty!” She exclaimed when she saw her, running toward her to give her a warm sort-of-unexpected hug. “You okay?” She asked through the embrace.

Betty nodded. “Yeah, thank you, V. I owe you the entire universe. Thank you thank you thank you,” she said sincerely. She had never felt more grateful to have her friends by her side. “I’m so sorry. I owe you big time.”

“You don’t owe me a thing, silly. You assist me so generously and selflessly with homework and my own personal dilemmas every day,” she reassured her. Then, Veronica pulled away, before giving her a serious look. “You poor thing. I’ve always known your mother was crazy, but this... Anyway, before you spill all the beans, I have some beans to spill on my own, too. Unless Archie told you?”

Betty gave her a weird look. “Archie didn’t tell me anything, why?”

She nodded, giving Archie a pointed (but nonetheless sweet) look. “Well…there’s unfortunately only one guest room at The Pembrooke – a tragedy of epic proportions, I know, but the mansion is still under construction – and I _may_ already have a guest staying over as well who just arrived last night, due to some awful and extenuating circumstances almost similar to your own...”

Betty had to process the whole sentence before nodding. Veronica spoke as though she was from a melodramatic teen series.

“Regardless,” Veronica continued, “I’m hoping you can look past the … differences you share, and/or will potentially share with this certain guest of mine, and instead prosper in your shared room during your stay at my humble abode.”

Veronica’s word choice allowed for Betty to not 100% understand what Veronica was saying. She always had some elaborate way of saying things. “Okay, I’m cool sharing,” she said with a smile. Because of course she was. Strangely, though, Archie looked very tense. He nodded slowly, waiting for Veronica to drop whatever bomb she just lit up.

“Okay, great!” Veronica said abruptly, but she looked nervous. Then, softly, Veronica Lodge murmured. (Veronica never murmured). She mumbled words that Betty heard ever so clearly, “Because you’re gonna be crashing with Jughead.”

* * *

 

Betty instantly censored his name in her head and reminded herself that Veronica was doing her the biggest favor in the world. Still though, she couldn’t wipe out the obvious unpleasantness on her face (side effect of the mention of Jughead Jones).

To provide a bit of undetailed backstory, Betty and Jughead didn’t just dislike each other. To be more accurate, they _loathed_ each other. It was as if every fiber in Betty’s being was made to hate that entitled and angsty son of a bitch. And it was 110% mutual.

It started with their families hating each other and hasn’t ended since. Growing up on the South Side of town, it somehow didn’t stop Jughead from becoming the best of friends with Archie. However, it also didn’t stop him and Betty from managing to get on each other’s nerves every goddamn day at school. Long before Veronica moved into town last year, Archie was referee and had to keep Betty from strangling Jughead to death. Archie was so grateful to have Veronica suffer with him.

 

* * *

 

 

Back to the present, Betty stood there, watching Veronica and Archie’s anxious faces look at her, waiting for her to probably throw a massive fit. Much to their surprise, though, Betty kept her calm. “Okay, I can deal with that. It’s fine. Thanks, V,” she said softly, nodding.

Betty took her duffel from Archie. “Thanks, Arch. Um, how long has he been here?” she asked, scarily silent.

“Just yesterday, actually. He had to because - ”

“Okay,” she interrupted, not wanting to know. Who cared about why Jughead had to leave his home? Certainly not Betty. Then, after an awkward silence, she asked, “Um, should we go?”

Veronica and Archie turned to each other, having some unspoken conversation. “Okay, go hit the elevator, B,” Veronica said, and Betty turned around to press the button, glad to finally wipe the fake smile off her lips.

While Betty was headed off, Veronica whispered to Archie, “I was worried she’d start yelling, but now I’m more worried she _didn’t_ start yelling.”

“It’s okay. I mean, their last major fight was like…” Archie started, and then he flinched, remembering it wasn’t so long ago.

“Four days ago,” Veronica answered. “And it’s why she ran off in the first place – so she wouldn’t have to see him or ‘anybody who could trigger an explosion’.”

“Ooh, good luck,” Archie said, making a _yikes_ face. “I should get going.”

Veronica grabbed his arm. “Noooo way, Archiekins,” she said, smiling. “You’re not going anywhere until I say so – you’re gonna play referee and help me handle them. It’s your fault, anyway, for being their first mutual friend.”

Archie groaned playfully. “God, they’ll trash your room before they even spend a night there.”

 

* * *

 

 

When they reached their floor, Veronica and Archie stood cautiously behind Betty, as if she was going to attack and lose control any minute. Betty took deep breaths, trying to keep her composure – see, any other day, it might’ve been a bit easier to remain calm in front of Jughead. But she started her day at a hotel and ended it with her mother throwing her out. And now, she was going to have to stay with someone she had hated her whole life.

Veronica, minus her usual finesse, fumbled with her keys (probably from nervous anticipation at what was to come). And when the doors opened, Betty saw her prospective roommate.

He was typing on his phone, walking toward the door like he owned the place, with his head bowed low. When he heard them entering, he looked up, clenched his fist, and furrowed his eyebrows, narrowing his eyes directly at Betty – a look of disgust.

According to Betty, if Jughead wasn’t such an asshole, he’d be below-average looking – but not _completely_ hideous.

In her eyes, he had ratty ebony hair, muddy blue eyes, and the face of an underdeveloped weasel (which she claimed was her totally unbiased perspective). Not to mention, there was no accounting for fashion taste (who wore the same crown hat every day?). It probably smelled like polluted South Side air.

Betty matched his face with a look of her own – the blatant roll of her eyes and snort, eyes practically scorching at the sight of him. There were no words needed to express how much they hated each other.

They didn’t have to say anything at all.

Veronica ran in front of Betty, interrupting their staring contest. “So, Betty, let’s talk?” She said perkily.

Betty nodded, trying to not be so affected. She had to be a good guest for Veronica, obviously (though that would most definitely be a challenge considering Jughead was around).

“Let’s go on Netflix, man. Watch some documentary or whatever,” Archie told Jughead, trying to keep him away from Betty. It was common knowledge that Archie hated “documentaries or whatever”, but really, Archie and Veronica would do anything to keep World War 3 from happening.

Betty gave Jughead one final, grudge-filled look, then turned around. Betty looked at Veronica, embarrassed. “I’m sorry again for the hassle, V. I know this isn’t ideal - ”

“Are you kidding? Betty Cooper, my absolute best friend, in door-to-door distance? It’s beyond perfect,” Veronica said excitedly.

“Are your parents okay with it?” Betty asked.

“If my parents can let my boyfriend’s best friend stay, they can let _my_ best friend stay,” Veronica said. “You can stay for as long as you’d like.”

“Thanks,” Betty said, smiling.

“Well, pizza is on its way,” Veronica said once they entered the dining area. Betty’s mouth watered at the mention of pizza, just as Veronica gave her a serious look. “Now, what happened with your mom?”

Betty sighed. “We had the worst fight of the century,” Betty mumbled, not wanting to recount the story again. “I stayed at the Five Seasons for two nights and came home, and then she started yelling. I didn’t think she’d kick me out, though.” Betty was eternally grateful that Veronica knew how to handle stressful situations. She kept her calm over the phone, and she was still keeping it now.

“What did she say?” she asked.

“I mentioned something… sensitive. Then she snapped. She told me to start packing my things,” Betty replied.

“Okay... Well, do you plan on speaking to her soon?” Veronica asked. “I mean, it’s Thanksgiving in two weeks.”

“No, I don’t,” Betty said, placing the duffel bag on the table. “Frankly, _she_ should apologize to _me_ for kicking me out. Custody or no, she’s still my mother. It’s her obligation to take care of me.”

Veronica nodded. “Absolutely. So when are you getting the rest of your stuff?” She asked, taking a seat and motioning for Betty to sit down as well.

Betty sat down, thinking. “I’m not sure. Maybe after school tomorrow, before she comes home from work.”

“Okay,” Veronica said. “Do you have keys?”

“Nope. But they’re under a certain house pot. And if she hid that too, I know how to pick a lock,” Betty replied. “And if it’s not my lucky lock picking day, I can borrow Archie’s ladder, climb up my window, and break the window,” she added jokingly.

Veronica gave her a weird look. “I don’t know if I should be happy or scared my best friend can pick locks.”

“Happy!” Betty exclaimed, laughing. “If you lock yourself out or you need to investigate someone…”

“I’ll be sure to call you, Nancy Drew Cooper,” Veronica finished. “Not to mention, you and Jughead - ”

“Ew.”

“ – are like, always ready to kill each other. Can you promise me you two won’t fight?” Veronica said.

“I promise _I_ won’t fight _him_ ,” Betty said, raising her right hand. “But if he draws blood first, that’s an entirely different story.”

“Geez, you two act like you’re at war,” Veronica said, cringing.

“He waged the war first,” Betty said defensively. Truthfully speaking, Betty didn’t recall who between the both of them had started it. She couldn’t think of a time where she didn’t hate him, thanks to her mother’s constant warnings about the Joneses.

“No. Your parents started it,” Veronica corrected. “And that’s why you two have to become the better people and finish it,” Veronica said for the nth time in the years they’ve known each other.

Betty paused thoughtfully. “If this is war like you said, then somebody has to lose, or wave a white flag to end it.”


	2. Roommates

Later that night, after Betty changed into pajamas Veronica gave her, she entered the guest room. Archie had just gone home after he and the devil’s spawn watched two more documentaries (talk about effort to keep Betty and Jughead as far away from each other possible).

She switched on the light and rolled her eyes at the sight. “Kill me now,” she muttered.

The room was about the size of her bedroom back home (the good part), except it looked entirely different (the horrible part). Somehow, Jughead had managed to make the room his own in the two days he’d been there. A queen-sized bed was in the middle of the room, with plenty of books and notebooks, flannels and jackets, and an old and opened laptop on top of the unmade sheets. He didn’t bother making the bed or even shutting down his laptop! _Jesus,_ Betty thought, _where was the etiquette?_

In fact, the whole room was a mess, save for Betty’s mattress with new pillows and sheets on the bed already prepared for her (she already greatly preferred the mattress). Everything else – the console table, which was full of library books (could he even borrow that many?), the floor, which had even _more_ clothes lying around (seriously?), and the absolute worst part, the couch, which nobody could even sit on anymore.

Betty groaned, tossing her duffel bag on the mattress on the floor. She was sure Jughead had deliberately made this mess to get on her nerves, knowing how much she hated a mess. But then again, he could’ve done it naturally.

She tried to calm down, taking deep breaths. Then, as if things couldn’t get any worse, the door behind her opened suddenly, hitting her back and causing her to jump.

“Oh my God! Watch it, will you?” Betty growled, turning around sharply, only to come face to face with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself. She stepped back instantly, met with the sour look he was giving her. She rubbed her left shoulder, the target of Jughead’s attack.

“You shouldn’t be standing right behind the door,” he said, clearly irritated, breaking eye contact and walking towards the bed and sitting down to check on his laptop. It was the first time they’d spoken that day.

“Yeah, but _maybe_ if you opened it carefully, you wouldn’t have hit me with the door so hard,” she retorted.

He looked up from his computer before standing back up. “Seriously? Over a door and you’re already picking fights with me?” he said before laughing snarkily. “I mean, why am I even surprised? This is classic Betty Cooper. I get it, your mom got tired of your spoiled ass - ”

The fight had escalated so quickly. As he spoke, her jaw dropped as she started saying, “You’re the one who has the nerve to come to his best friend’s girlfriend’s house like you and Veronica are suddenly tight now! When in reality, you’re just talking advantage of how nice she is, knowing she can’t say no.”

“ – and you had to take it out on _me,”_ Jughead finished.

They both stopped, giving each other the stink-eye from across the room. _This_ was why Betty hated him. One small disagreement and the fights got extremely personal. They knew each other well enough to hit the hard spots. He always thought he was the better person just because he was – to lightly put it – _poor._ He thought he was above everybody else because of his angst-filled vendetta against anybody privileged enough to not need a side job.

And here he was, under Veronica’s roof. As though he wasn’t just badmouthing rich people a few days prior.

The door opened, hitting Betty’s shoulder again, but she didn’t get mad this time since it was Veronica. “Oh my God, you guys. It hasn’t even been five minutes,” she said, annoyed. Veronica was already in her silk pajamas while holding her phone in her hand, meaning she was probably having a call with Archie (it happened every night before going to bed). Betty knew because she made sure her curtains weren’t drawn every night – some weird stuff went down on those video-calls.

“Sorry, Veronica,” Jughead mumbled.

“Yeah, my apologies. But for the record, Jughead started it,” Betty said.

Before Jughead could reply, though, Veronica gave him a warning look. Jughead shut his mouth, sighing. “Get it together. Just don’t talk, simple as that. My parents will be home soon,” she told the both of them.

“Sorry again,” Betty said. “But good night.”

“Night,” Jughead repeated.

Veronica nodded. “Good night.”

Betty shot him a glare as Veronica shut the door. She felt a wave of exhaustion all of a sudden – fighting with her mom then Jughead in a day definitely drained the energy out of her. She sat down on the mattress, trying to calm down. Still, the sight of all his clothes everywhere irritated her. “Can you not be so messy?” She snapped.

He was typing away at his laptop. He didn’t reply.

Betty rolled her eyes. _Stay calm, Betty,_ she reminded herself. _Don’t give another reason for Veronica to reprimand you again._ She lay down on the mattress and pulled the blanket over her body, trying to get her much-awaited rest.

However, she couldn’t sleep over the annoying sound of his fingers hitting the keyboard, and even with her eyes closed she could _feel_ the light from his computer keeping her awake.

“Can you not be so noisy? It’s eleven thirty, for Christ’s sake. Get off your laptop,” she mumbled, covering her face with the blanket, to no avail.

He continued typing on his computer and the light continued piercing through her eyelids, as though she hadn’t spoken.

Betty sat up, looking in Jughead’s direction. The brightness of the computer screen lit up his face, hard and focused. He still wore his dumb hat even at night (seriously?). He blinked slowly, his dark lashes fanning over his cheeks. This is what he looked like every time she saw him at the _Pop’s_ whenever they weren’t fighting. He was calm. He seemed so focused. So absorbed. So dedicated.

So annoying.

“Turn that thing off,” Betty ordered. He didn’t budge. She groaned before lying down again.

 

* * *

 

“You raced to the _bathroom?_ Seriously?” Kevin Keller said, raising an eyebrow. They were walking through the hallways towards the Blue and Gold office for their daily morning meeting and had just recounted her awful day yesterday, ending with the fact that she and Jughead fought over the bathroom in the morning.

“Yeah, and he won, and took like, twenty minutes just to get a rise out of me. Who takes _that_ long?” Betty grumbled. “I’m beating him to it tomorrow. And I’ll take thirty minutes.”

Kevin shook his head, running a hand through his brown hair. It was not an uncommon expression he made whenever Betty vented about her woes with that Jones boy. “You can’t be uncivil with him the whole time you’re crashing there. Maybe you guys just need to get to know each other, and then you guys could click and become friends,” he suggested cautiously.

But not cautiously enough. Betty flinched at his words. “Ew, Kev. Ew. Why would you even say that?” she said. She and Jughead… _clicking?_ It was a horrific thought.

“Okay, okay. I won’t push it. How’s your article coming?” Kevin asked as they entered the office.

“Oh, it’s a killer,” Betty replied. She turned on the old computer by the corner since she didn’t have her laptop (it was at home).

The Blue and Gold was Betty’s passion. She wrote every word of her articles with her heart, trying to write stories that made her think and wonder and search. The town was never enough because nothing ever happened in Riverdale – what was to write about? Her parents each owned rival newspapers and there was barely anything to put as headlines. Her mom owned The Riverdale Register while her father owned The Riverdale Chronicle. (An embarrassing rivalry). It was why she wanted to leave Riverdale in the future – and the first step was writing for The Blue and Gold.

She plugged it in and opened her first draft for the paper (which was published bimonthly). “It’s about helicopter parenting.”

“Ooo, I see where you got the inspo. When did you write this?” Kevin asked, peering over behind her.

“When I was at the Five Seasons,” Betty replied. She grabbed a yellow pad of paper from her bag filled with notes she had written while waiting for Jughead to finish showering. “These are the stuff I want to add. I had to write it here because my laptop and other stuff are back home. It needs some polishing,” she said, scanning the things she had written. “How’s your article?”

See, while Betty handled the cover story as editor-in-chief of the publication, Kevin handled the (in his words) ‘juicy’ section of the paper. He gave her a printed copy of his draft. “It’s a column about why the cafeteria should start having vegan choices. I interviewed Midge. She gave such insightful points.”

Definitely not juicy, but Betty liked the idea of it. She took the paper. “Great. I’ll read it.”

“Hello, hello, junior Pulitzers,” Veronica’s voice filled the room, causing Betty and Kevin to turn around. Veronica was the public informant of The Blue and Gold (a position she made up herself).

They turned around. “Hey, V,” Betty said, just as Kevin said, “Love the outfit.”

Veronica curtsied, looking down at her ensemble of an indigo dress and (unsurprisingly), pearls. “Thank you, Kev. _Love_ the sweater,” Veronica said, placing her black handbag on the table. “So, what are we working on?” she asked.

“Just exchanging the articles we’ve written,” Betty answered. “Do you have anything to comment on about helicopter parenting?”

“Hmm. I can’t relate,” Veronica said. “By the way, you’re gonna get your stuff later at your house?”

“Mhm. Right after school,” Betty said, standing up to prepare her school books.

“Fantastic, because I just told Andre to take you after school, so he can assist you with the baggage you’re gonna take,” Veronica said, pleased with herself.

Betty placed her hands at her chest, grateful. “Oh my God, thank you, V. But you totally didn’t have to - ”

“I had to. Now let me read your piece so far,” Veronica said, sitting down on the computer seat to read her article with Kevin.

Just then, Toni Topaz entered the room. “Hey, guys,” she said, pulling back her dyed-pink hair. She was the photographer of the paper, always with a camera on hand.

Back then, she wasn’t allowed to carry her camera around but after she and Betty co-wrote an article in freshman year about how it was essential to let students pursue various art forms without school rules having to limit the growth of talent, a petition was made and things changed. Now it was junior year and all four of them were a team.

They all greeted her, complimenting her outfit (they were a supportive bunch). “Can you take the time later to get us good visuals for a piece on helicopter parenting and a column on the lack of vegan choices in the caf?” Betty asked.

“Gotcha. Veganism and parenting,” Toni said, nodding. “By the way, Betty, I ran into Jughead this morning and wow, I can’t believe you’re crashing at Veronica’s,” Toni said, an amused smile playing at her lips. (Yeah, pretty much all of Betty’s friends were friends with Jughead. It was a tragedy of epic proportions on her end.)

“That’s true,” Betty said, with the sad shake of her head. “But I’m eternally grateful for Veronica.”

Toni laughed. “Oh my God. I’d pay to see that,” she said, grinning widely. Out of all of Betty’s friends, Toni seemed to be the only one to take joy in Betty and Jughead’s hatred for each other.

“Trust me, you don’t want to see it,” Veronica said warningly, turning around.

“It’s hilarious, I bet,” Toni commented.

“It’s not funny,” Betty muttered, taking her chemistry books.

“Okay, it’s not. But why the need to go to Veronica’s? What happened?” Toni asked, concern washing over her face.

“Her mom, naturally,” Kevin replied for her.

“Do we have Vixen practice later? Because if there is, I’m missing it. I have to get my stuff at home,” Betty asked, trying to change topics. The mention of her mother bothered her plenty, and she wasn’t in the mood to spill the story.

“Cheryl has a student council meeting later - ” (Cheryl was student body president), “ - so no need to worry,” Toni replied, bringing out her phone. Her eyes widened when she checked something. “Speaking of Cheryl, I was supposed to meet her at the student lounge twenty minutes ago.”

Veronica checked her phone. “Oh my God, I was supposed to meet Archie at his locker ten minutes ago,” she said. Veronica and Toni ran off without saying goodbye.

“Dating life. Can’t relate,” Kevin said, raising his hand.

Betty high-fived him.

 

* * *

 

After classes, Betty waited by the steps for Veronica’s car to drive by. Just as the black limo pulled over, someone walked towards the car, surprising Betty. And of course it was Jughead, whom she managed to avoid the whole day. And yet he was here again, ready to strike at her nerves once more.

She looked at him in disbelief, running towards the car herself. “Excuse me? This is my ride,” she said, just as he was about to open the car door.

“Veronica offered to have me driven back to the house so I could get more of my stuff,” Jughead said.

(Betty would hardly call Jughead’s place a _house_ \- he lived in a trailer in the South Side – the horrible part of town). “Well, Veronica offered _me_ to drive me back to my house so I could get _my_ stuff,” Betty said.

Andre stepped out of the car. “Mr. Jones, Ms. Cooper, good afternoon,” he greeted, opening the car door for them and motioning for them to go inside.

“Hi,” Betty said to Andre, just as Jughead hopped in the vehicle. “Um, well, whose house are we going to first?”

“Ms. Lodge didn’t specify,” Andre replied.

“We should go to mine first. My dad gets home early,” Jughead said, peeking his head out the door. She didn’t quite believe that his dad was ever home early (he was unsurprisingly, a drunk), but Veronica’s warning words replayed in her head. _I promise I won’t fight him._

Betty rolled her eyes. “Okay, let’s go,” she said, going inside the car. She couldn’t believe that with all the clothes Jughead had lying around, he had to get more. It took a lot of her power not to comment on that, especially that she was now beside him.

The drive was silent, but Betty still felt that Jughead’s entire presence was being too noisy for her liking.

 

When they arrived at his place, Betty noticed immediately that the sleek black limo was completely out of place. The trailer park was no joke – it was a place of robbery and drunken fights and drug deals. She knew it was dangerous, and Betty couldn’t help but feel tense and on edge.

The Jones trailer resembled many others. Betty had only been here once several years ago (he mother never allowed her to step foot in the South Side of town). It was a memory so vivid because it stood out among the picturesque scenery of the North Side. She was with Archie in Archie’s pick-up truck with Fred Andrews driving. They were nine years old, and Betty was horrified at the sight of the trailer. Falling paint, sullen people, beer bottles scattered all over the tall and itchy grass.

They had come to pick Jughead up since Archie’s dad told them he’d treat them all for a good meal at _Pop’s_ (the invite for Jughead was an idea Betty hated but Archie insisted upon). Jughead ran over to the vehicle to say, “I don’t want to go.”

He did it presumably because Betty was in the car, but even Betty found his refusal strange. He was in front of Archie’s dad, after all. And while Fred tried to convince him to come along, Jughead wouldn’t budge. He insisted on not coming along with them.

And here they were again. The sight of the trailer hadn’t gotten any better in the past eight years. In fact, it had gotten worse. The rickety stairs that led up to the door had broken glass and garbage bags blocking the way. The windows didn’t need any curtains courtesy of the film of dust blocking the view.  This was where Jughead had lived.

If she hadn’t hated him so much, she’d feel sorry for him. Sorry that his home wasn’t a home. Sorry that he was living in someone else’s home for whatever reason. But Betty loathed him enough to overlook that tragedy. (Because maybe he deserved it.)

Jughead went out and into the trailer with Andre’s assistance. And while Betty sat in the car looking outside, she noticed that the front door wasn’t even locked (not a shocker). Because even if someone _did_ plan on robbing the house, they’d have nothing to rob in the first place.

She tried to picture what was inside the trailer. It was messy, no doubt. She imagined plenty of unthrown take-out containers all over the sofa. She imagined a creaky bed and a pile of unwashed dishes.

He came back out in five minutes with a duffel bag that he placed in the trunk. He returned inside the vehicle in silence – and Betty could’ve sworn he looked embarrassed.

They drove to her house and the key was not there. It hurt her a little that her mother had thought that through and really didn’t want her own daughter sneaking back inside, but she tried not to think much of it.

She had to pick the lock with a hairpin. She went upstairs and after about twenty minutes of packing, she climbed back down and placed her belongings in the trunk. She wasn’t sure how long she’d be with Veronica, but it did no harm to have more clothing options.

When she was back in the car, Jughead gave her the stink-eye.

“You took a long time,” he muttered under his breath.

She had to repeat the words over and over in her head. _I promise I won’t fight him._


	3. Friday

Over the years, Betty and Jughead’s petty childhood rivalry grew into something else entirely. It formed into a full-fledged hatred that spanned years – resulting in boiled blood and burned bridges. It affected a lot of things, most especially the life of the unfortunate Archie Andrews.

Elementary included having to win every game after school or at Picken’s Park. It wasn’t _that_ serious, really. It was chanting insults like “D-U-M-B” and sticking tongues out and pulling hair. Archie would have to jump in between them and have his ginger strands grabbed.

Betty tried not to remember middle school. It was long before the sensible Veronica had arrived. A dark time, many would say. Betty and Archie were ‘dating’, which meant they held hands at school and did absolutely nothing more. Truth be told, Betty never really liked Archie that way and it wasn’t like she sent sparks flying to his end either.

Looking back, she figured it was a power thing. Betty wanted full control over Archie because it meant he’d spend less time with Jughead which also was synonymous with her victory. And Archie, the follower that he was, went along with it, almost oblivious to her ulterior motives. They broke up after three weeks and acted as though nothing happened. Seventh grade truly was strange.

High school became a war of its own. It was completely political – never about fights or boyfriends. It was about taking your friends on your side. It was about proving who the better person was.

In the ninth grade, Betty began penning prejudicial articles targeting the South Side to garner favor – up until Toni Topaz convinced her otherwise during the semester. It was one of Betty’s regrets and definitely not her brightest moment – she still constantly apologized for it to Toni.

Jughead, on the other hand, started wearing that beanie of his. Every single day. He told Archie it was a protest against North Side privilege that Betty deemed stupid, because to her there was no such thing as North Side privilege. He never apologized for it.

Though fighting wasn’t physical, it was more intense than ever. Both parties learned to lie low since they were now in the same, bigger friend group. During lunch, they’d sit as far away from each other on their shared table as possible. They barely looked at each other. Somehow they matured.

And yet somehow they were kids again. Because the following morning, Betty woke up at 5:30am just to beat him to the shower. She made it a point to take a long time as well – payback for yesterday and for keeping her up until midnight as he typed on that laptop of his.

Jughead’s knocking filled the room.

“It’s been thirty minutes,” he said, his gruff voice irritated.

“Gee! Didn’t realize I was taking so long. Ten more minutes,” she replied in a high-pitched mocking voice.

Ten minutes later, she stepped out in her bathrobe and a towel atop her head. He eyed her icily. “God, you don’t think for anybody, do you?” he said.

“Good morning to you too,” she replied, a satisfied smile playing at her lips.

Winning felt nice.

* * *

 

“And then she started calling me ‘young lady’. Then I was out of the house,” Betty ranted, fuming. “She is the most annoying person to be around,” she continued. She was talking to Toni during lunch time about how she got kicked out – and just reliving through it in her story annoyed her already. But it had been almost a week, and she figured she should come to terms with it.

“Your mother got sick of how spoiled you are and now you’re crashing at someone else’s place? Third world problems,” Jughead muttered before taking a bite into his burger (wasn’t he on a hunger strike last week?).

She glared at him. “I wasn’t talking to you,”

He swallowed his bite. “Really? I wouldn’t know with that volume your used. You’d think that maybe you wanted everyone to hear about your issues,” he retorted. He took another bite into his burger.

“Oh! I’m poor! I live at the trailer park! I can only afford coffee! Look at my angsty beanie that shows I’m a nonconformist! Hunger strike! Burgers!” Betty mocked loudly. “Yup, I’m definitely louder than your whole privilege protest.”

Jughead still had to finish chewing before he fought back. “But it’s the truth. You don’t stand for anything good – all you care about is drama and writing dumb articles on that paper of yours,” he argued, taking another bite into his burger.

Toni started to laugh. “Oh my God, Jughead, nobody can take you seriously while you’re swallowing that burger,” she said in between laughs. “Also, don’t insult The Blue and Gold,” she added more seriously.

“Sorry,” Jughead mumbled to Toni.

Betty smiled, satisfied. Toni was on her side, after all.

Toni turned to her. “And you, Betty, hilarious as this is, you gotta learn to ignore his snide comments. Someone has to be the mature one,” she said.

“I can’t ignore him undermining my valid problems,” she argued, just as the rest of the group arrived at the table – Kevin, Archie, and Veronica.

“I sense tension,” Veronica commented, sitting down beside Betty. “I’d say fill me in since I love drama, but I get enough yelling in the middle of the night and early morning. I’ve had my share.” She began digging into her Cobb salad and talking to Kevin about a certain Spring Awakening OBC reunion.

Archie was beside Jughead. “What was it this time, man?” he asked.

Jughead began rambling about Betty, which Betty tried to tune out since Veronica was around. _Someone had to be the mature one._

“So, where’s Cheryl?” Betty asked Toni.

“Probably handpicking her salad’s cherry tomatoes,” Toni replied.

“Ugh. You won’t believe it. Those cherry tomatoes were a _mess_ to sort through. Has anyone at this school heard the word ‘fresh’?” Cheryl’s voice said from behind Betty. “Sorry I’m late,” she added, walking around the table to sit down beside Toni.

Toni and Betty laughed. Toni couldn’t have been more accurate about what Cheryl was doing.

“What’s so humorous?” she asked, taking a sip from her green smoothie.

“Toni just predicted you handpicking cherry tomatoes,” Betty explained.

“Well why wouldn’t I? I’m not an animal, cousin,” Cheryl remarked.

Toni turned to Betty. “How are you two related?”

 

* * *

 

After cheer practice, Betty headed for The Bijou. Because Veronica and Archie went on weekly Friday dates, and she wasn’t going to stay with Jughead back at the Pembrooke. Else it would turn into a crime scene. And she would very much rather watch a double-feature.

She had just requested for two layers of butter in her popcorn when an unfortunately familiar voice sounded behind her.

“ - I don’t wanna bother you or mom – I know you leave me on voicemail intentionally - but it’d be nice to hear from you two once in a while ‘cause things aren’t that great back here,” Jughead said from behind her, clearly on the phone. Betty almost forgot that she was supposed to be annoyed, because what he was saying was interesting. _Mom?_ Since when did Jughead talk to his mom? As far as she knew, she left long ago and was now out of reach for the Joneses. “Dad’s… well, _dad,_ and unfortunately things haven’t gotten better - _”_

He stopped. Then quickly and quietly, as if he’d just noticed Betty, he said, “Call me back. Hopefully. Bye.” Then his tone changed when he spoke to her. “What are you doing here?”

Betty took the popcorn and turned around to face him. He looked shaken. Almost embarrassed, just like the other day at the trailer park. He wasn’t so snappy, but still irritated nonetheless. “I should ask you the same question. I’m here to avoid you.”

“Well I’m here to avoid _you._ Because Archie told me he’d be at Pop’s with Veronica” he said. He adjusted his crown beanie and then shoved his phone in his pocket, agitated. “You never even come here. You’re not even supposed to – why are you here?”

That was his pretentious film nerd speaking. She rolled her eyes. “What? You don’t think I can watch movies? Or wait, sorry, brooding beanie boy - I mean, _films?_ ” she said snarkily.

“I didn’t even mean it like – whatever,” he grumbled, shaking his head. He clearly did not have the time to argue. The showing began in five minutes.

Betty walked into the theater and sat at the very front, just where she liked it. There was only one other person inside the theater besides her, a man using his phone at the far back.

She heard Jughead’s annoying footsteps soon enough, and he sat at the far end of the front row, too. As far away as he could from her. Naturally.

The film started. _An American Werewolf in London._ One of Betty’s favorites. She wanted to focus, but at the back of her mind, Jughad was just a mere ten seats away from her. She suddenly hated that The Bijou was small and cozy.

 _Small and cozy with Jughead around._ Repulsive.

 

The movies ended eventually, but it felt way too long. Her whole night – no, her whole _week –_ had somehow gotten worse. He ruined the movie and its sequel already. And she was going to have to walk home now that she was truly out of cash thanks to a cinema ticket she did not enjoy.

She stomped outside the building and aimed her popcorn container for the trash. She missed and got even more annoyed. She picked it up and pretty much slammed it into the garbage. Jughead seemed to notice as he stepped out too, because he laughed. Not the nice kind of laugh.

The mocking kind. _Naturally._

“Can’t even be decent in _throwing away garbage._ That’s a whole other level. Even for _you,”_ he said from behind her.

She turned around and narrowed her eyes at his ratty ones. “Okay, but at least I don’t leave all my garbage in my best friend’s girlfriend’s guestroom,” Betty retorted, arms at her sides.

“It’s not garbage,” he replied, barely a comeback. “Besides, you shouldn’t even _be here._ I take _The Bijou,_ you take _Picken’s Park,_ remember?” he said.

Betty remembered suddenly. Honestly, she had forgotten. Back then, they used to claim territory so they’d never run into each other. Common ground was school and _Pop’s_ and, well, _Archie’s house._ Everything else was divided. It had been so long ago. And it wasn’t a good agreement – Picken’s Park was boring now.

“That was so long ago,” she muttered, not meeting his eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest. She knew he was somewhat correct. Their agreement, while long ago, was one of their few. “Whatever. It doesn’t count. By now, it should be North Side and South Side divisions. You _know_ it should be that way.”

“The drive-in shut down a year ago,” he muttered back. “Where am I supposed to watch films?”

She stepped toward him. “That’s not my problem,” she said, eyeing him icily.

He stepped forward too. They were about two feet away from each other now. “Just admit you don’t play fair,” he shot back, his gross blue eyes looking back at her.

She stepped forward again. One foot. Away from _him._ It was too close, but somehow not close enough. “Those rules were made when we were _twelve_ ,” she countered. She didn’t remember the last time they’d been this close to each other. Probably never.

Their eyes were burning into each other. With some kind of stupid rage. Everyone knew it was stupid. Except for them.

“Geez, get a room,” a voice said, interrupting them. It was Cheryl, who was hand in hand with Toni.

Betty and Jughead immediately stepped away from each other, revolted. “Ew,” they said at the same time, flinching. Since when did Cheryl tease the both of them?

“You two act like children,” Toni said. “Territories and shit. I can cut the sexual tension between you two with Cheryl’s jawline,” she added, smirking. Betty grimaced.

“Did you have like a parley back then, or…?” Cheryl quipped, smirking.

“As a matter of fact, we did,” Jughead answered coolly, crossing his arms over his chest. “And she’s not upholding her end.”

Betty rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t count.”

“The standard Cooper reply! _Why_ are we even surprised that she can’t live up to our parley – “ he announced, arms out mockingly.

“Nerd,” Cheryl interjected. Jughead frowned at her. _Just like a child._ Toni was right about one thing. _“Kidding,_ Jones.”

Before they could say anything else, Toni spoke, “Have a fun night.” They giggled and ran into the establishment. Betty and Jughead gave each other the stink-eye. Were they really immature? Maybe to each other, the other one was. But really, in their eyes, their whole hatred for each other was completely rational.

Betty began to walk home without saying another word to Jughead. She couldn’t afford an Uber. She heard him walk behind her many meters away, too. His footsteps annoyed her as per usual. So he couldn’t afford to commute back, either. It was oddly comforting. She walked faster so she could be far away from him, away from the annoying sound of his feet hitting the ground.

Then she began to think about the phone call Jughead had. With his sister, most likely. About his mother. About him wanting them to call back. From the sound of it, it seemed Jughead’s talking to them was a one-way thing. She remembered the look on his face when he noticed she was there. She remembered the edge in his voice when he talked back to her. That wasn’t the Jughead she knew. She wasn’t sure how to feel about it. But whatever her feelings were, she decided to ignore them. The last thing she was going to do was humanize Jughead Jones.


	4. The Art of Pettiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tried something new? Enjoy a fun chapter with the rest of the gang's POV :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry the update took so long. I had the longest writer's block ever. I got inspiration while doing math. Makes sense.

You had to believe Betty: _Jughead started the prank wars._ Though Jughead claimed otherwise, it really fell unto the opinion of the outsiders. Veronica and Kevin were all for Betty on this one, while Toni and Archie alleged Jughead was innocent. Though we’ll suppose you’re like Cheryl Blossom, clueless, oblivious, and only mildly interested to whatever this whole three-day ‘prank war’ was.

On Thursday morning, Cheryl sat down in the lunch table, having spent a lot of time choosing her meal. She noticed the absence of Jughead and Betty immediately, who were usually about to tackle each other by now. Everyone else was talking about the prank war.

“What is this prank war I keep hearing about?” she asked, taking her apple and munching into it. “And where are Betty and Jones?”

“Long story,” Toni said, a smile growing.

Here’s a basic introduction: The Betty and Jughead Prank Wars. Setting: The Pembrooke. Duration: Sunday night and still ongoing. But before we get to that tension, we shall start from where all starts should start: the beginning.

* * *

 

And the beginning was Jughead drinking Betty’s strawberry milkshake on Sunday night. Betty walked into the kitchen and heard the familiar Pops Milkshake slurp, a sound every Riverdalean was accustomed to. A sound Jughead should not have been making was he not drinking someone else’s milkshake.

“What. The. Hell,” Betty growled, rushing toward him and swiping the takeout from his hand. “This is _my_ milkshake!”

“Oh, shit,” Jughead said, stepping back, only slightly alarmed. “You should’ve labeled it.” He wasn’t sorry at all.

“Excuse me? Whether it’s labeled or not, you don’t go around drinking milkshakes that aren’t yours!” Betty said, slamming the cup that was almost empty on the countertop.

He shook his head. “But Veronica said _mi casa es tu casa,_ which includes food. So it isn’t my fault I assumed – ”

“You love assuming. Now it’s gonna bite you in the ass, because you’re getting me a new one,” she told him pointedly, arms crossed.

“Woah, not my fault. I’m not spending my money on your dumb milkshake you should’ve labeled,” he argued. “Besides, I – ”

* * *

 

“Why doesn’t he just buy her a new one?” Cheryl interjected. “It’s just a milkshake.”

“That’s what I said,” Veronica grumbled. “But he has too much pride. Hashtag Team Betty.”

Toni nodded and replied, “Also because he _knows_ he’s right. But mostly because he – ”

* * *

 

“ – can’t afford it,” Jughead finished plainly.

“And so?” Betty said. “This milkshake was me treating _myself._ I had to pull out money from my savings to reward myself from surviving a week with _you_ as a roommate.”

“Wow!” Jughead said, arms extended. “Like you’re so easy to share a room with! You take too long in the shower and the room smells like flowers all the time.”

“Like that’s a bad thing?! You make it smell like coffee!” she countered. Her head was heating up just talking to him.

“Like _that’s_ a bad thing,” he scoffed.

“ _And_ you spend too much time typing in the middle of the night,” she added.

“You _snore!_ ” he pointed out.

Betty stepped back, aghast. As far as she knew, she never snored. “No I don’t!” she replied, pathetic. In order to counter, she yelled, “Well, you’re so messy!”

“I’m not,” he grumbled, “I just have a lot of stuff – ”

“That’s what every messy person says!” she shrieked. “And the point is, you owe me a milkshake.”

“I’m. Not. Getting you. A milkshake. It isn’t my fault you can’t label your own drinks,” he told her.

“You either pay me back, or you’re gonna _pay,”_ Betty said, stepping forward, eyeing him with an intensity that would make anyone forget they were talking about milkshakes. Again, _children._ Perhaps Cheryl was right – they were just two nerds in some kind of ridiculous war.

“I’m so scared. Good luck with that, Cooper,” he said, turning away and walking into the living room.

* * *

 

“I can’t believe they fought over a milkshake,” Cheryl said with the shake of her head. “But typical. Low key not even surprised. Who’s winning?”

“Up to you to decide, really,” Veronica said. “Though in my opinion? Betty. Have you _seen_ Jughead’s hair? That’s not something you can really outdo.”

“She took it a little far with that one,” Archie commented.

“You jealous, Arch?” Veronica said, raising an eyebrow.

“What happened to his hair?” Cheryl wondered.

“He’s been covering it very well,” Kevin chuckled. “But today…”

“Let’s just say, there’s a reason he went home early the other day,” Veronica said, stifling a giggle.

Cheryl raised an eyebrow. “Why? What happened?”

* * *

 

Jughead rushed out of the bathroom Monday morning looking more like Cheryl Blossom than himself.,

Red. Freaking. Hair.

“WHAT IN ACTUAL GOD’S NAME, COOPER!” Betty heard him yell from the table. He was dripping wet and only wearing a towel. Betty’s grin grew wide. (She tried to ignore the fact that he was only wearing his towel).

“Told you you’d pay, Jones,” she said, sipping from her orange juice.

Veronica waltzed into the room and laughed so loud it didn’t sound like Veronica. “Oh my god, Jones. I might kiss you. You look so much like Archie,” she said in between laughs.

Jughead glared at Betty, breathing heavily. “How long does this last?” he fumed.

“About twelve showers. Relax,” she told him. “You can cover it with your hat.”

“My beanie isn’t a _hat,”_ he muttered under his breath.

“Okay, whatever. Point is, you brought this on _yourself,”_ Betty said smugly.

 “I know it may not seem like it, but I take my appearance very seriously,” Jughead said, with the kind of intensity one would see in an overzealous art film director. “Frankly, you’ve taken it way too far. I don’t want to go to class looking like… like…”

“Like a goth Ronald Weasley?” Betty said, smiling sweetly. “I think you’ll make a great Ron. Truly.”

“This isn’t the end of this, Cooper,” Jughead said. “You dyed my hair just because I drank your stupid milkshake? Wait till you see what’s next.” He stomped away, the floor wet with his footprints.

“No ruining my house!” Veronica called after him, grabbing a newspaper from the table.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied back, because no matter what the prank war was, they were under Veronica’s command and roof. Nothing was more superior than _that._

* * *

 

“That explains why Jughead’s hat was worn that way. We all thought he was bald,” Kevin said.

“Makes sense,” Cheryl said, “Does this prank war have anything to do with Jughead carrying an industrial-sized ketchup container last Monday?”

“Oh, boy. Yes,” Veronica said excitedly, clapping.

“He can’t buy a milkshake but he can buy that much ketchup,” Toni said.

“Betty hates ketchup with a passion reserved for relatives of victims of murder. And Jughead knows just that,” Veronica continued.

* * *

 

Betty woke up on Tuesday morning not expecting that Jughead already had something planned out for her. Mostly because she was sleepy, but also because she underestimated his retaliation abilities.

In the bathroom, she grabbed her toothpaste, which was the deep color of red.

Very similar to ketchup.

Very. Similar.

Unaware of its newly-filled contents, she squeezed the red into a highly generous amount onto her toothbrush sleepily. It was a lot of ~~toothpaste~~ ketchup. She yawned and then put it in her mouth, the sour tomato flavor bursting in the most disgusting way possible in her mouth.

Ketchup.

She shrieked and spit in the sink, making the ketchup flavor mix more inside, further disgusting her. “Ew ew ew ew ew ew!” she said, spitting many, many times into the sink. She gargled water repeatedly for the next five minutes before stomping outside to lay down her thoughts.

“YOU ARE VILE, JUGHEAD JONES,” she growled, seeing him reading on the couch, satisfied. “YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY VILE. TEMPORARY HAIR-DYE IS ONE THING. BUT THIS IS TRAUMA! YOU _KNOW_ I VOMITED THE LAST TIME I HAD KETCHUP!”

“Oops,” he said, nonchalant as he looked up from his newspaper. “Sucks to be you.”

 

But that wasn’t the end of it. Jughead put ketchup in Betty’s French toast, which resulted in another gargling session. Then there was ketchup in the salad she ordered at school. ( _How_ did he do it?). It was inescapable. The vinegary, saucy tomato was inescapable. It was disgusting. She made sure to check her mac and cheese dinner, which was thankfully ketchup-free. Though nothing could end the ketchup trauma. Nothing. She could still taste it when she remembered what he’d done.

She was going to get her revenge. But silly, red-based pranks were done now. It was time to do something that would bother him for a while.

That night, she took his computer and hid it somewhere he would never find it.

* * *

 

“This is _not_ going to end well,” Cheryl said, forgetting she had salad in front of her. Getting filled in on the prank wars grabbed her attention. “Now continue.”

* * *

 

“Cooper, I know you hid my computer. Where is it?” Jughead said Wednesday night, barging in the living room. He wasn’t wearing his beanie, so his bright red hair was just staring at her like Gerard Way. Perhaps because the red was staining his beloved possession.

“Gee, I don’t know, Jughead. Be more responsible, maybe?” Betty replied innocently, turning a page in her novel.

“This is serious. I don’t expect you to understand, but I just had a creative epiphany and I _need_ my laptop,” he told her, matching his intense tone the day before.

“Should’ve thought about that before making me brush my teeth with the most disgusting condiment ever,” she said, looking at him and giving him a bright smile. She returned to her reading.

Jughead stayed quiet.

A few minutes later, when Jughead’s heavy, annoyed and annoying breathing ended, she finally had a better reading experience. And then, from the corner of her eye, she saw the sneaky Jughead swipe her phone from the coffee table.

Not. Her. Phone.

Before she could react, he ran into their bedroom and locked the door. She up and followed him quickly, but it was too late.

“JUGHEAD JONES! NOT MY PHONE!” she yelled, banging on his door. “NOT MY PHONE! JONES!”

* * *

 

“And that is it so far,” Veronica finished.

“A teenager without their phone? Yikes,” was all Cheryl could say.

“And now we wait. They didn’t go to school today, so God knows what’s happening,” Toni said, taking Cheryl’s drink and sipping on it.

“Betty skipping school? Triple yikes,” Archie added.

* * *

 

As Betty messaged her friends through her laptop, and Jughead typed his ideas into the Notes app, they glared at each other across the room from time to time. It was 2pm and they had given up looking for their devices, but neither of them could call for a truce.

There was much tension at the Pembrooke. Betty was furious.

 **Is my house burned down yet?** Veronica messaged.

 **Haha. No! I wouldn’t want to burn with Barfhead Bones. But we’re civil now.** Betty replied.

 **Hmmm. Something tells me it’s less civil and more of silently plotting each other’s deaths? I’m genuinely scared of the idea of coming home. Should I expect a crime scene? My girl has no phone, who knows what she’s capable of. Do you need me to intervene?** Veronica replied.

Betty laughed. **I know you’re tired of playing referee, so no. Thanks for the offer though. Anyhow, I will win this fair and square. He just has to get me what he owes me and all will return to how it once was.**

**Got it.**

* * *

 

 **Just get her the milkshake, man** , Archie texted Jughead.

“There, I did it, Ronnie. Happy?” Archie said, looking at Veronica, who smiled at him proudly.

“It was necessary,” Veronica said. None of them were eating, they were invested in the conversation exchange with the prank war players.

“That will _so_ not work,” Toni said. “He won’t just give up. Team Jughead forever.”

 **Nope. Never. And she’s not going to claim victory. This won’t end. Not until she apologizes for taking things too far.** , Jughead texted back.

“Yes! We’re rooting for you, Jones!” Toni cheered.

“Team Betty for the win,” Cheryl said, poking her tongue at Toni, who playfully rolled her eyes.

 **You’re crazy dude ! Good luck haha I’m cheering for you,** Archie replied.

“No! This has to end. This is the only way.” Veronica took her boyfriend’s phone and began typing. **But seriously dude just buy it. Or Betty will take your crown!!!! Literally she once broke into my garage and stole my guitar when I cheated at my math final haha. Say goodbye to the beanie!!!**

Kevin peered at what Veronica typed and sent Jughead. “You sound just like Archie,” Kevin said. “Do I text _him_ sometimes?”

* * *

 

“Jesus,” Jughead grumbled, standing up and walking out the door, slamming it behind him.

Betty was confused. She stared at the empty sofa now. What was _he_ up to?

She began watching roommate prank videos on YouTube, but they were either damaging (poor Veronica) or too nice (lucky Jughead).

Forty minutes later, Jughead returned with a Pops strawberry milkshake. He walked towards her and extended it and her phone. “Ceasefire,” he said, eyes dead serious and hair bright red. “I need my laptop.”

Betty smiled, taking the milkshake and her phone before standing up. “I win?”

He sighed deeply. “You win. Now where’s my laptop?” Jughead said quickly.

“Repeat that first part again? I didn’t quite catch it,” she said, smile widening.

He looked straight into her eyes. “You. Win.”

And maybe it was the gesture of giving up, or the vulnerability in his tone when he said she won, or the way he awkwardly stood up with his hands tangled together and his body just a little too close to her, but she had the urge – a snap vision if you must – of grabbing his face in her hands and – pressing her lips to his?

No no no. She was _not_ just thinking about kissing Jughead Jones. Was she crazy?

She broke eye contact. Her cheeks burned. She may have won but she stumbled as she walked into the room and approached Jughead’s stack of library books on his bed where his laptop hid in plain sight. She took his laptop as he stood behind her (a little too close again). She handed it to him. She was feeling all sorts of gross things right now. She tried to ignore them over and over. What was going on with her?

“Good hiding spot,” he muttered.

She didn’t have time to make a snarky comment about how he couldn’t properly find a laptop on his literal bed, because what if she lost control and  _kissed_ him?

~~What would it feel like?~~

Gross. Gross. Gross. Betty, get a grip.


	5. Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty goes through a lot of emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate this chapter. I hate my writing. I'm so glad I'm anonymous because I'm so embarrassed. Anyway the next chapter is much worse. I wish I wrote Quality and was confident :(

 

Jughead moaned. “God, this turkey’s so good,” he said, biting into a breakfast turkey sandwich from Thanksgiving leftovers that were still present.

Betty held her breath, feeling her chest tighten. She was a horny mess. For Jughead. And she hated it.

She could not stand to see him. Normally, she could never stand seeing him. But this was different. She literally felt like falling to the ground when she looked at him too long.

No. She did _not_ like Jughead Jones. In fact, she hated him more than ever before. But she was strangely and strongly attracted to him. Not because she found him attractive. God no. But because she wanted to have sex with him. Which was so. Much. Worse.

What was going on with her?

She was going crazy. What made it even grosser was that he had red freaking hair while all of this was happening. Did something happen to her? Was she on something? Maybe it was in the strawberry milkshake he gave her.

It didn’t help that during Thanksgiving dinner days before, Jughead made all sorts of sounds while eating his turkey. She was hot and bothered during dessert. A dark cloud of shame enveloped her. She tried to ignore it. But every time he took his while in the shower, her head would start to spin with imagination that made her want to vomit.

It was odd and binding. It had already been a week since the day she wanted to kiss him, and whatever she was feeling had gotten more… intense. She found it repulsive and magnetic at once. She decided to explain the weirdness by owing it to the fact that they were in the same room. With a bed. And her last boyfriend was so forgettable. She hadn’t kissed anyone in over a year. It wasn’t _Jughead._ It was her hormones. He was the biggest male presence in her life right now, so her stupid body had no choice. _Get a grip,_ Betty would tell herself. _This is Jughead freaking Jones._

What made things even _worse_ than worse was that every time Jughead had something snarky and taunting to say to her, she would only get more turned on. Which meant she lost touch and couldn’t say something snarky and taunting in reply. Which meant he was winning. Which meant she was losing.

* * *

 

As Veronica and Betty walked to class, Veronica brought up the sudden peace in the house. “You and Jughead have been very quiet lately. I mean, more like Jughead’s been very mean, but you’re not matching up with it. Care to explain?”

That was alarming. Veronica had begun to notice. “I’m just tired lately,” Betty said, crossing her arms over her chest. More like her heart beats out of her chest when he speaks to her, but Veronica did not need to know that.

“You were never too tired to go head to head. This morning, he said you took too long in the shower to which you replied, ‘whu-why?’, which is so not you,” Veronica said with the shake of her head. “I know you said you wouldn’t pick fights, but this is just pacifist! Are you okay?” Veronica looked at Betty, who was zoning out.

“Oh. Yeah.”

Jughead groaned behind her. “God, I hate PE.”

Betty swallowed. He was behind her.

“Come on, man. It’ll be fun. It’ll take your mind off the science exam this afternoon,” Archie replied.

“Now why would I want to take my mind off an _exam_?” Jughead told his friend. “I don’t want to run a mile.”

Betty’s eyes widened. She agreed with Veronica a few days ago to watch Archie run around the field during PE since they were Vixens and didn’t have to do the mile-run, something non-varsity players had to do as a requirement. (Archie didn’t have to do the mile-run either as he was part of the football team, but he was going to do it anyway because he was Archie). Which meant she’d have to see Jughead sweaty and running in his shorts.

She wasn’t looking forward to it previously, but now she was. Because maybe that was _exactly_ what she needed to get this hormone-induced Jughead attraction away from her. After seeing him run, she’d be completely over him. How unflattering would he be? Just enough.

The idea made her smile. In two hours, she would be over Jughead Jones.

* * *

 

Betty sat at the bleachers with Veronica, who waved at Archie proudly as though he was gonna run a marathon. It was a physical education test. Jughead stood behind Archie in his shorts, looking nervous as hell.

Sadly, the outfit wasn’t throwing her off.

“Archie looks great,” Veronica said, waving at him. Archie waved back. Jughead noticed, and looked in their direction.

Betty met his eyes, then averted before she could feel things further. She reminded herself they would disappear in a few minutes. He would begin running soon. And all will revert to normal.

When they began to run, Betty’s eyes didn’t leave Jughead. He was far behind Archie in no time and was struggling to even have correct running form. He stopped midway and held his knees tight, sweat darkening his shirt. And yet… Betty didn’t realize her mouth was hanging open and drool was about to come out. She shut her mouth and blinked quickly. What was wrong with her? He was sweaty and unbecoming. She should be laughing. Thinking of insults. Not mid-drool over her sweaty rival.

She stood up, grabbing her backpack. “I’m gonna use the bathroom,” she told Veronica. Betty figured she had to get a hold of herself.

Veronica didn’t hear her. “Go Archie!” she shouted.

 

Shutting the bathroom door behind her, Betty walked towards the mirror and looked at herself. She needed to control herself, but she couldn’t. Maybe it was being raised under a Cooper’s roof that gave Betty the desire to control every little thing in her life.

Things like, well, _feelings._

Purely physical feelings, but still. If Jughead ever found out, he would hold it over her head forever. A week and what was happening had only grown.

She needed a break. She spent the rest of her day wanting nothing more than to not have to interact with anybody.

* * *

 

Betty made her way to the library before returning back to Veronica’s. She needed time away from Jughead, who was the only thing on her mind lately. At a pace that only took her further and further, it was about time she had gotten time alone to think.

She sat down, taking one of her favorite Agatha Christie novels from her bag. She flipped through her favorite parts, trying to get Jughead out of her mind.

And then she heard her mother’s voice.

“Please. Hal knows which newspaper dominates Riverdale. The Chronicle has nothing on the Register,” her voice said, followed by a laugh.

Betty looked up and looked around. Her mother was gossiping with the librarian, looking charming as ever. She knew that her mother used a certain voice for certain people. She understood that she was trying to get information from the librarian, probably for a story she was working on. Betty felt her heart stop. Her mother was doing just fine without any news of where her daughter was or if she was getting along well.

Alice did not see her. She was too involved with trying to get information out of the librarian. Betty stood up, taking her bag, realizing she had no place anywhere near her mom. It hurt. She had forgotten what it was like to have a complete family, but she didn’t think she’d forget what it was like to have her mother care for her.

There was a time her mom used to reach out to her. She missed it more than ever.

Betty knew why she and her mother had ended up this way: Betty was a constant reminder of her father. Hal, who put her through all the trauma of being cheated on then being abandoned. Hal, who challenged the Riverdale Register when he put up his own newspaper. Hal, who got custody of the daughter Alice once loved so much. Hal, who broke her heart and left her a chunk just enough to pierce her heart – a scornful Betty, who was impossible after the divorce. Betty, who somehow blamed her mother for everything that went down. Betty, who made her mother feel it was her fault the family broke apart. Betty, who pushed her away every single day.

Betty was ten when her parents got divorced. Her dad knew just how to get her on her side. And then when she was older and Hal showed his true colors – a father that really only wanted the perfect daughter to spite Alice – Betty came running back to her mother, whom she still detested though needed, but who was too far pushed to care anymore.

Still, she reluctantly took her daughter in. And Betty tested her further, always picking fights with her. They were a match made in hell. Then a year later, her mother forcibly took her out. And now Betty was living under the roof of Veronica Lodge and sleeping in the same room as her enemy Jughead Jones, whom she was weirdly attracted to at the moment.

How had her life come to this?

Betty’s eyes watered with tears. She realized she was holding her breath. She stood up, taking her bag and storming outside, feeling hot and cold at the same time. Her cheeks were damp and her head was spinning. The only person she could think to blame was herself. If she had tried harder with her mother in the past, if she had been kinder, if she hadn’t been so stupid to take her father’s side, she wouldn’t be where she was now.

Feelings. Why couldn’t she control her feelings? Why couldn’t she turn back time and fix everything that was wrong?

Down the street. Away. Tearfully.

Not seeing who was in her way, she bumped into someone. Five heavy books hit her feet, which hurt, but she was too in her tears to care. She looked down and recognized the hardbounds. Shocked, she looked up and found Jughead, who hadn’t seen her either. And was now looking at _her_ with what looked to be… concern.

Concern.

Was he kidding her?

Betty immediately stopped crying and wiped her face. She avoided his gaze. She didn’t know what to say, or if she should even say anything, with the fear she would choke up and embarrass herself even more.

He firmly held her shoulders and looked at her. “Betty,” was all he said. He said it so softly. She wasn’t used to how her name was said by him. It was always _Cooper_ with a scoff. Not Betty with concern. No aggression, no anger. For a split second, she wanted to say something that wasn’t so harsh. Then –

She remembered this was Jughead Jones.

All sense was restored. No. She was not attracted to him right now. She had no time for this annoying, rude, obnoxious guy who had been getting on her nerves since day one. He didn’t care. This ‘concern’ he was showing was for his own future benefit. To entertain him was an invitation for him having something to hold over her head for eternity. All _she_ felt was anger and aggression. She shot him a fiery look.

 _This_ was her channeling her feelings.

“Oh, go to hell, Jones.”

Then she walked past him, trying to ignore the instant, quiet feeling of regret that hit her.


	6. Looks and Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know i updated only two days ago, but i just need to get chapter 6 published because i want to publish chapter 7 already lmao anyway enjoy this filler chapter :3 i'm sorry, nothing really interesting happens here but i promisE the next chapter is better thank you for reading!

Betty was having a rough week. Besides the nagging reminder that things were never going to return to better with her mother, there was the fact that Jughead had seen her sobbing in the street. Christmas was in two weeks and as far as she knew, she’d be spending it with her best friend’s family – which was better than nothing, but it meant an arrangement she didn’t think would be long-term.

She and Jughead of them had gone from angry to silent. For a weekend, Veronica watched the two not say so much as a word to each other. At night, Betty would study as Jughead typed on his laptop. It was as if they had stopped getting on each other’s nerves. Whatever happened, it changed everything. The Pembrooke was at peace. Veronica didn’t have to reprimand anyone.

Monday morning was a nightmare. Betty’s mood had thoroughly damaged her sense, which made her forget her clothes when she went in the bathroom. She cursed herself when she realized she had thrown her pajamas in the hamper outside. She was just _hoping_ Jughead wasn’t directly outside, waiting for his turn.

“Please be asleep,” she whispered to herself. “Please please please.”

And alas, fate had thrown a rock at her face. She decided to make a run for it, but Jughead, it seemed, decided to storm in the bathroom. In a rush to get to their destinations, they bumped into each other, pretty hard, and she almost dropped her towel.

Betty wanted to jump out the window. Because she was dripping wet, wrapped in her towel that was way too small – vulnerable and naked – staring into the wide eyes of Jughead Jones, who was just as stunned as she was. They were standing far too close to each other, and neither were on speaking terms, and neither would have had any idea what to say even if they had been, and neither moved as they looked at each other.

Why didn’t she scram? Why didn’t she say _anything?_ Why didn’t _he_ say anything? The look on his face was indiscernible. Shock and yet, not disgusted. Shock transformed into confusion. She, however, had no time to process the lack of revulsion on his face. She had to do something.

Though she was frozen. Heat rose to her cheeks. They looked into each other’s eyes for God knows how long. He was the first to truly react. He stepped back abruptly and turned away, swallowing. Neither still said a word.

It was too late to make it matter, but that was when Betty ran away.

* * *

 

Lunch was awkward. Veronica, Kevin, Cheryl, Toni, and Archie all exchanged looks as the two silently ate their food. No passive-aggressive remarks. No glares from across the table. No tension. They didn’t know what to say. Betty and Jughead were seemingly still under distress from the morning’s run-in.

If anything, the lack of tension made the worst kind of tension.

“So… do you guys have your outfits picked out for the dance?” Kevin broke the silence.

“Duh,” Cheryl, Toni, and Veronica said as Archie said, “Yeah.”

They all turned to Betty and Jughead expectantly. Betty had totally forgotten about getting herself an outfit, even though she had been busying herself with planning the event itself during the past few weeks. “I… don’t, actually. I’ll get it today. Sorry, can I skip cheerleading today?” she asked Cheryl.

“Go ahead. Anything for the right dress,” Cheryl said.

“Count me out too, Cheryl? I’ll be with Betty,” Veronica said, smiling. Cheryl agreed. Betty figured she was going to have to deal with that later. The problem was, Betty was in no mood to go shopping at all (and in no budget). Betty planned on sneaking into her house that night and grabbing something from her closet.

It was Jughead’s turn to answer. He swallowed his bite of burger and simply said, “Not going.”

 _Thank god,_ Betty thought.

“Unacceptable!” Veronica exclaimed.

Toni rolled her eyes. “Not on my watch, Jones. You _have_ to go. You can’t keep missing events then asking us to explain an inside joke days later,” she said.

“I second the motion,” Cheryl said, nodding. “You’re _really_ missing out.”

“But it’s not my thing. I’ll be standing in the corner,” he said. Betty almost rolled her eyes. There he went again with his long monologues about how he was a weirdo. Then she reminded herself that he saw her cry and he had the upper hand forever until _he_ cried. So who was the weirdo now?

“We’ll make it your thing. Everyone can make it their thing. I mean, do I look like a school dance kind of guy?” Archie asked.

“Yes,” everyone else replied in unison. Not exactly a good point he raised.

“Okay, point is, Jughead and I are bros. And if I like school dances, he can too,” Archie said, slightly panicked.

“Archie’s argument may be weird, but he’s right. Majority wins. You have to go now,” Veronica said.

“I don’t even have anything to wear,” he said.

“We have time. It’s still on Friday,” Kevin reassured him. “And as long as you have a suit, you’re fine.”

Betty was not happy with the idea of them inviting Jughead to the dance. She hated how he looked at her lately – a look that was a mix of confusion and concern (that still always had the touch of annoyance). It was a very odd mixture that drove her crazy. He stayed quiet, too. Not saying a word to her since. How could either of them have stayed silent earlier? How come he still had said nothing about her breakdown in front of the library? Strange, really, that he had something to hold over her head and he hadn’t brought it up yet. But she was grateful. Whatever his reasons were, she was glad they existed.

“How much is it?” Jughead asked.

“So that’s a yes?” Toni said, smiling.

“Yes,” he grumbled. “How much is it?” he repeated.

Everyone else but Betty smiled. Betty could not remember any time Jughead ever attended a school event. She planned almost all of them, really, and she knew that besides his obvious opposition towards social programs held at the gymnasium, he never attended because he knew how much effort she put into them. Why would he support it and add to its success?

“Twenty-five dollars,” Cheryl responded, popping a grape in her mouth. “Get your ticket in front of Principal Weatherbee’s.”

* * *

 

Betty saw Veronica waiting by her in the hallway after last period. “I’m excited for shopping, B. So, what color are you going for?” she asked with an excited smile. “I say we head to Macy’s – ”

“I’m sorry for not telling you earlier. But I’m not buying a dress, V. I’m going back home to get one of my old dresses,” she interrupted.

“What?” Veronica said, appalled. “Unacceptable. You didn’t plan this whole dance just so you’ll end up not shopping.”

Betty sighed. She wished she could tell Veronica, because she trusted Veronica more than anyone. Though this wasn’t an issue of trust. Betty had tried to talk about it with her over the weekend, but she simply couldn’t bring herself to talk about it at all.

“I’m sorry, V. I’m just not up to do anything right now.”

Veronica held her arm, giving her a look of concern. “Betty, I know something’s wrong. You can tell me. I’m always here for you.”

She smiled. “I know. I just… I need to be alone now. I’m sorry. Raincheck on the shopping? We’ll go over winter break.”

“Okay.” She squeezed Betty’s hand reassuringly. “Are you _sure_ you don’t want to go shopping today?”

“I’m sure,” Betty replied. “Thank you for everything, though.”

“Of course. Well, I guess I’m attending Vixen training,” Veronica said. “Archie can take you. Text him.”

* * *

 

“So why are you and Jughead scarily civil?” Archie asked in the car ride. Betty got the sense of déjà vu from when he drove her to Veronica’s weeks ago.

“Nothing. I just don’t have the energy to snap at him right now,” Betty replied. _Or guts._ _Because he saw me cry,_ she thought.

“Is something going on with you? You’ve never been the talker, but you won’t talk to anyone unless they talk to you first,” he said, turning into their street. “And if there’s anything you can talk nonstop about, it’s whatever you’ve been planning or writing. You said nothing about the Christmas dance.”

“Sometimes I just get like this,” Betty answered. There it was again. She couldn’t tell Veronica, and now she couldn’t tell Archie, even if he had the backstory to her messed up family life.

“Okay. Just know I’m here, kay? So is Ronnie,” he said. She knew that. She did not know why it hadn’t made a difference. The car came to a stop in front of her house. “Here we are.”

Betty didn’t go outside right away. She looked at it, Christmas decorations and all. Her mom had put up a wreath and fairy lights outside, and from the window she saw a Christmas tree. All set up. Without her. Without her for her to see.

The car was out, which meant Betty could just hairpin her way inside. She unbuckled her seatbelt and went through the pathway of the house, remembering how she sat at the patio thinking of what to do that day. Their fights escalated so quickly, but that was the end of it. For the first time, her mother had stopped doing what she had done before. She was finished.

Betty took a deep breath before unlocking the door. She turned on the lights. The house was clean and smelled like cookies. Everything was well at the Cooper house.

She went upstairs and opened the door to her room. Her room was still a mess from when she packed her things last time. Her mother hadn’t touched it at all.

Betty opened her closet and saw the sky blue dress in the far corner. She took it, along with a white cardigan. Then, she grabbed her heels and was ready to go.

But just as she was about to leave, she heard her mother’s car pull into the driveway.

“Shit.”

Betty froze, unsure of what to do. Her heart began to pound. Did she have the nerve to show her face to her mother? Or would she have to jump out the window?

Panicked, she tried to form a coherent thought. She could go down there and her mother would see her. What would she say? Would they yell? Be silent? Her mother definitely would figure someone was inside. The door was unlocked. The light was on. Archie’s car was parked almost directly in front of the house. What if she called the police thinking it was an intruder? But surely her mother would assume it was her? Betty could not think of a coherent thought. So she ran downstairs and went out the back door, ultimately deciding that above all, she did not have the strength to show her face to her.

Betty, from the side of the house, heard the door open. She went out to the front. And much to her mistake, she turned around, earning herself a perfect view from the window.

The window Alice Smith was looking out of at that moment.

Betty and her mom made eye contact. Her mother’s face was unfathomable. It wasn’t angry or happy. Or sad or sympathetic. It was as if she wasn’t even looking at her. Betty’s hands were shaking. She felt this rush of something. Something not good. Something broken.

She had the urge to choke out a _Mom. Let me come home._

She had the urge to go through the door. Because maybe this time, her mom would be hers.

She had the urge to make everything right.

But alas, she did not do what she wanted. Betty turned back around and ran to Archie’s car, hopping in the front seat.

“Jesus. That was close. Did she see you?” he asked.

It occurred to Betty that she was afraid of and running from her own mother. It didn’t get any more real than that. It was terrible. Her heart was broken.

It also occurred to Betty that she was holding her breath. She exhaled, feeling her pulse slow down, finally. She wasn’t shaking anymore, either.

She figured that she had no interest in speaking about any of that to him. She couldn’t place why exactly it was so hard to tell Archie or Veronica, but it was what it was. In her head, she just _knew_ they wouldn’t understand. She didn’t think anybody would understand.

She smiled at him. “No. No she didn’t.”


	7. Dances, Distractions, (and Drinks)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title says a lot. :O ????

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mamma mia here i go again updating too soon!!!!

Betty busied herself on Friday by making sure the gym looked perfect for the dance. It was the ideal distraction from the upcoming winter break. By now, she’d thought that she’d be back home. Like what Archie said: _I_ _’m sure your mom_ _’ll let you back in soon enough_. What if this was her new normal? The thought wouldn’t leave her mind. The distraction was hardly working.

When even the smallest design details were properly set up, Betty headed to the bathroom to get dressed. People would arrive in about half an hour, so she had no time to pamper herself; it was now time to focus on the food being served was fine too. She put on the dress and a light layer of makeup on her face, figuring she had no one to impress anyway.

As she stepped out, she saw her friends (and Jughead) at the gym already, all dressed up.  She supposed they paid Jughead a million bucks to be there to support her. “The venue is magical. _Winter Wonderland_ indeed,” Veronica said brightly.

“Thank you, V. Believe me, it’s great to see you guys here, but why are you all early?” Betty asked, pleasantly surprised. Jughead sat down on the bleachers, annoyed at everyone’s friendliness.

“Duh,” Veronica said, “you’ve been planning this for weeks. Of course we’d come early.”

“That’s so sweet,” Betty told them with a smile, “but I still have things to do. I have to talk to the caterer and do another round of sound and light checks – ”

“Leave it to me,” Archie volunteered, raising his hand.

Betty panicked. She could _not_ leave Archie in charge of that. “Toni and I will help,” Kevin said, giving Betty a look. Thank God for Kevin and Toni.

“Meanwhile, Veronica and I will fix your hair and makeup,” Cheryl said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“I can’t just abandon my duties,” Betty said. Behind them, she saw Jughead check his phone then leave briskly outside. _Where was he going?_ she wondered. Then she remembered she didn’t care.

“Come on. This is going to be fun,” Veronica said. The look of excitement she gave her made Betty cave. She supposed it wouldn’t be too bad to let loose.

* * *

 

And let loose she did. When Betty was dolled up and nothing was going to go wrong anymore –  when the fun began, Betty tried every bowl of punch hoping someone had spiked it. Maybe all she needed was a distraction. And yet, no one was a rebel enough to put alcohol in any of the drinks just yet. Betty rolled her eyes, slamming her plastic cup on a table.

“Why so angry, Cooper?” a voice greeted her beside her. She turned and saw Reggie Mantle all dressed up, holding a flask in his hand. He was always kind of an airhead.

Her face lit up. “I’ll confiscate this, thank you,” she told him, grabbing his flask and walking away.

“Hey! Would it cost so much to stop being such _a buzzkill,_ Cooper?” Reggie called out from behind her.

Betty sat down on their empty table and chugged down Reggie’s vodka indiscreetly. It was a miracle nobody saw her. Instantly, she felt dizzy. And distracted. Who cared about the lack of parents or the lack of a proper living arrangement? She was at a school dance with loud music, partying teenagers, and – she saw more football guys take out flasks from inside their jackets by the punch bowl – free alcohol.

She grinned and stood up, feeling slightly tipsy. Her heels weren’t helping.

The football players were just about to sneakily pour their flasks into the punch when she took the two flasks with her. “Confiscated,” she announced. “Now be grateful I’m not reporting you two to the principal,” she added when they scowled at her. She hid the flasks in each side of her bra, then went behind the stage and drank them down slowly, feeling the alcohol take over her brain. God, she hadn’t drunk in a while. Why had she ever stopped? And what was she doing, drinking alcohol at a school event _she_ planned? She had no time to be alarmed, though. This was fun. The perfect distraction.

When she had finished those too, she was thoroughly drunk. Betty ambled into the middle of the dance floor looking for more people. She had just spotted a freshman girl pulling one out of her purse. “Con-fish-cated,” Betty said, trying to sound sober. She blinked at her slowly and gave her a smile. She grabbed the girl’s drink and was about to hide it in her bra when she heard Jughead’s voice behind her.

“What the hell are you doing?” he said, his voice loud over the blaring music. Why was he there? Talking to her? After days of silence? And why in God’s name was he wearing that stupid crown hat to the dance?

She sighed deeply, turning around slowly, but fast enough to send her head spinning. “Whah? Whahar _you_ doin’?” she slurred, jabbing a finger into his chest, barely pushing him back. He only glared at her.

“I don’t know what’s been going on with you lately, but this is just stupid. You’re drunk at a school event that you _planned._ Drunk off alcohol that you _confiscated,_ _”_ Jughead related to her, attempting to knock sense in her. He grabbed the flask from her hand.

“I’m not _drunk,_ _”_ she said (very drunkenly), trying to take the flask from him, which he was holding tightly. Why was she so weak? Probably because she was drunk. When it was deemed hopeless, she grunted. She actually grunted. “And… youwerewatchingmebecause…?” she said, making an exceptionally peculiar angry face. Courtesy of the vodka, she looked like a flirtatious wink gone wrong.

Jughead considered it for a moment. Why _was_ he observing her? He shook the question away. “Well, you’re hardly low-key. Staggering around the dance floor and hiding these in your… you know,” he said, looking slightly awkward and turning away. Her _bra._ “It’s a wonder no authority figure has noticed you.”

Of course they hadn’t noticed her. Betty wasn’t one teachers looked out for. Teachers expected her to look out for other people. Betty rolled her eyes and tried to take the flask from him, but he still held on to it tightly.

“Ughhhhhhh. You’re _such_ a drag,” she grumbled. “Reggie Mantle shoube callen _you_ buzz kill. Or booze-kill. Ha. Ha. Ha,” she said. She laughed a hiccupy laugh, closing her eyes as she enjoyed her bad joke.

Jughead shook his head, frustrated. “Cooper. You’re so obviously drunk – ”

“STOPBOTHERINGMEWILLYOU?!” she suddenly shouted very loudly (and very inebriated). Jughead hastily hid the flask in his jacket as people turned around to wonder why Betty Cooper had yelled in the middle of the dance floor. Then, they decided to ignore her, figuring it was just the usual yelling she did towards Jughead Jones “You’re not my BODYGUARD,” she continued, “you _HATE_ me.”

He crossed his eyebrows. “I don’t hate y – I just – stop, okay? You’re – you’re gonna get caught. Do you want to get caught?”

Betty couldn’t figure out why he was doing what he was doing. She looked at him for a long time. He looked at her too, with the same confusion she had. What _was_ he doing? First, she looked at him with sober puzzlement, and the longer she observed the more it turned into drunken desire. Her pupils dilated (out of what she was currently feeling – lust). His did, too (out of what he was currently feeling – confusion), because she was leaning into him. She realized she had never seen Jughead in a suit before. His eyes were so _blue._ He was so _tall._ He had great bone structure. Since when was he attractive?

 _Two weeks ago,_ her mind reminded her. She instantly forgot that she hated him. She leaned in closer and closer. Until she was close enough to –

Jughead stepped back, turning away. “What are you – ?” he didn’t finish. He stepped away from the crowd.

Betty watched him leave, and for a sober instant she wondered what she had just done. She forgot what she had almost done just as quickly. Then, for an intoxicated moment she recalled that he had her flask. She had to get it back. She wanted that flask. She _needed_ the flask.

She managed to make her way out of the dance floor and looked around the gym. He was nowhere to be seen. Or was her state blocking her vision?

“Betty, you have to try these fried cheese cubes!” Archie suddenly said behind her. She turned around and saw Archie holding about toothpicks with fried cheese cubes at the end. Or was it twenty fried cheese cubes? Archie looked very pleased with himself. “They’re delicious. I’m gonna make Ronnie try ‘em.”

“Haaaaa,” Betty replied, turning around and leaving. Archie gave her a strange look but decided not to think much of it, returning to the dance floor.

She left the gym and tipsily walked through the hallway. She stopped when she kept almost falling down. She literally wiggled her heels off and left them in the middle of the hall.

Betty continued walking (rather slowly) through the hallway. She truly felt the alcohol now. Then she saw Jughead by the library. The library was closed, of course. She supposed Jughead just liked being around the library. _Nerd,_ she thought. Then she remembered she was kind of a nerd, too. And it was hardly an insult because being a nerd was awesome. _Pretentious nerd,_ she corrected. That was a much better insult.

He turned around when she giggled at the _pretentious nerd_ thought. When he saw her, he started talking. “I told you to – ”, but then Betty moved quickly towards him and put her hand on his chest.

Jughead’s eyes widened. He probably thought she was going to – well, do something to him. In _that_ way. But really, Betty was reaching inside his coat and taking the flask. When she finally had it, she stepped back and looked at the flask as though it was a gold bar. “Hihi,” she said, giggling again.

He took the flask from her hand and put it in his pocket. “No, Cooper. No. You know what? You’re going home. You’re way drunker than I thought. Were those flasks still full? You’re gonna get caught,” he firmly told her.

“Me? Caught? Then let meeee,” Betty said, smiling widely, eyes drooping. Then she fell to the floor. Jughead caught her quickly enough so it wouldn’t hurt her, but not quickly enough so he didn’t fall too. Right on top of her. How convenient.

He tried to sit back up, but Betty grabbed his face. She looked at him. His face of puzzlement sent something bright in her chest. Maybe his too. Loose waves framed her face as she stared at him in fascination. Then she smiled. “You’re cute, you know?” She giggled. “I dunno why I fight you aaaaall the time.”

He blinked quickly and his face turned red. He got off from on top of her and sat down on the floor, helping her to sit up. She seemed to have forgotten what she had just said and done because she frowned at him. “You _SUCK_ _Jones_ ,” she said bitterly, “you’ve TAKEN my alcohol and now I have NO. MORE. SHOES. Wherearemyshoes?” she said, looking around her. “I think… they fell off… on the way here.”

He looked down and saw that she did, in fact, have no shoes. He stood up and left her on the floor, without another word. She was even angrier at him now that he had left her. She couldn’t believe he left her drunk and on the floor in the middle of the hallway. _I thought he didn_ _’t want me to get caught,_ she thought. “ _You_ _’re gonna get caught._ _”_ She mocked him in a high-pitched little-girl voice. Then she laughed at her Jughead imitation. She tried to stand up, but she couldn’t bring herself to.

Then Jughead returned, surprising Betty. He held her high-heels in his hands and handed them to her.

Betty’s face softened as she smiled at him. “Hehethankyou,” she said, taking the shoes and trying to put them on her feet. She could not. “Can you do it for me?” she asked, giving him a sweet, almost innocent look. He regarded her, confused at her question.

What happened next was monumentally strange. He considered her question for a long moment. Then he just went for it, because it wasn’t like she was going to remember any of it anyway. He took one of her shoes and then almost cautiously, moved his hand to her left ankle and lifted it to put the shoe on her foot. Betty looked at Jughead’s face as he looked down and put it on. It was dark, so he was concentrating hard, which Betty found endearing. It was intimate in the weirdest way. Betty’s head was spinning. She had no idea what was going on. What was he doing, looking out for her like that? And why was she letting him? She was too drunk to care.

It was the booze speaking, but Betty questioned everything about Jughead Jones in that moment.

He did the other shoe next. Betty, without thinking much of it, touched his hand. He looked up to her.

The lighting was dark and all she could truly see was the blueness of his eyes, but something was clearer than it usually was.

Betty removed the beanie on his head and put it down, holding it tight. Then, she firmly held his hand and closed her eyes. Slowly, she leaned in closer. And closer. And closer. Jughead held his breath, frozen.

 _What are you doing?_ was her last sober thought. But it didn’t matter. She wanted to do what she was doing. She was only a couple inches away from his face when he came to his senses. Jughead lightly pushed her back. “Let’s get you home, Betty” he said, without the usual harshness in his voice. He spoke to her as if they didn’t hate each other. He spoke to her as if he didn’t hate _her._

Betty, once more, had forgotten what she had just said and done. She nodded. Jughead stood up, helping her stand. She almost toppled over, but he made sure she didn’t fall. She laughed.

He had every reason to take advantage of her drunkenness. He could’ve let her get in trouble. He could’ve made her say embarrassing things. He could’ve made her spill her secrets, given that she clearly had no filter at that moment. He could’ve left her alone.

But he didn’t. Instead, he made sure she didn’t get caught. He made sure she didn’t do anything embarrassing. He did not leave her alone.

He called an Uber that night and brought her back to the Pembrooke. She was too tipsy to talk or complain (or remember).

Betty woke up the next morning wanting to vomit. She did not recall any of the important bits of the night before, save for the vague, unsure memory of Jughead tucking her into the bed and lifting the blanket to keep her warm.


	8. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something happens.

Everything got weird the morning after the dance.

Betty had no idea what had transpired the previous night. She was too drunk to make any lasting memories. All she knew was Jughead had seen her drunk, and Betty was nothing if not a no-filter, lousy, childish drunk.

She had woken up that morning on the _bed_ , for starters. Jughead had slept on the mattress. Not only that, but Jughead had placed all his books on the mattress, giving her quite a lot of space, which was fortunate because she moved a lot in her sleep. Was it him being considerate or him assuming she was a messy sleeper? _Obviously_ _the latter,_ she thought, because Jughead was selfish and whatever had happened had clearly exposed her.

She had no idea what he now knew about her, and it scared her. He probably had blackmail material on her. Therefore, she didn’t know how to act around him.

Besides being a raging bitch, of course.

Now that they were speaking to each other again, she needed to reassert her power. Veronica wasn’t home yet (she probably slept at Archie’s), which meant she didn’t have to be as filtered as she normally was when they fought.

After vomiting and showering and changing into pajamas and a shirt and dealing with her heavy migraine and having three cups of hangover-killing coffee, she turned her attention to Jughead, who was relaxing on the couch and watching a documentary on Netflix.

Betty walked behind the couch and spotted the remote control sitting beside him. She grabbed it quickly and then moved to sit down beside him, his eyes following hers, annoyed and confused. She exited the documentary. Pettiness had made a wonderful comeback.

“What the hell? You don’t just _do_ that,” he snapped, taking the remote from her hand.

“Well, you’ve been hoarding it too long.” She grabbed it back from him.

“Have some manners. Jesus.” He took it back, his face sour.

“ _You_ _’re_ the one with no manners, leaving your feet up the table like that,” she said, pointing at his legs.

He put his feet down. “Says the one who literally took a remote control from a person using it,” he shot back, pointing at the remote control in her hand.

“Says the one who doesn’t use coasters,” she told him.

“That was _one time_ ,” he argued.

“Whatever. No more TV for you, hoarder.” She glared at him. _Like children_ echoed in Betty’s head, but she didn’t care. Jughead deserved it. He was just about to grab it from her when she stood up and ran away.

“What is _wrong_ with you?!” Jughead hissed, standing up.

Betty stood on the other side of the living room, arm raised, with the remote control in her hand. “If you want this remote back, you’re gonna have to promise not to use whatever information you got from me last night against me,” she declared.

He approached her. “What? What ‘information’?” He was puzzled.

“Don’t act stupid, Jones. You and I both know I tell everyone my secrets when I’m drunk. Now what do you know about me?” she said threateningly.

“Nothing. Nothing, Cooper. You said nothing, okay? Now give back the remote control,” he said, frustrated.

“I don’t buy it,” she said.

“Even if you did – ”

“I DID?!” she interrupted.

“No. _If_ you had told me something – which you didn’t, by the way – they’re not my secrets to share,” he simply said.

Betty wondered why he would say something like that. Clearly, he was up to something. He wasn’t considerate. Especially not to _her._

“ _Liar._ _”_

“Whatever. Take the remote. Netflix has screen sharing settings anyway,” he said. Betty hadn’t thought of that. He took his phone from his pocket and Betty ran to him, snatching it from his hand. She held both devices in each of her hands.

“Not on my watch. Just tell me what you know and promise you’re never going to tell _anyone,_ _”_ she told him fiercely.

He was very much irritated with her. “I don’t know _anything._ I won’t tell _anyone,_ _”_ he explained, aggravated.

“You want it back, you’re gonna have to _earn_ it back!” she said, frowning before running into Veronica’s room. He reluctantly followed her. Essentially, she was still Drunk Betty but with more energy.

“You’re literally the most annoying person _ever,_ _”_ he said.

“I could do this _aaaaall_ day. Just tell me what you know and you can get your phone back,” Betty told him, showing off his phone and the remote to him. _Why couldn_ _’t he just tell her? What had she told him that he decided to keep to himself?_

She turned around and went inside the bathroom. Big mistake. She was not looking at him, so that was when Jughead took advantage and took his phone from her hand. She, however, was not going to back down. Betty turned around and pulled it back.

“Just tell me what you know and I’ll let _go,_ _”_ she said, pulling it. They were like children fighting over a toy.

“I already told you what I know!” he exclaimed. “I know _nothing._ _”_

She pulled as hard as she could until it was with her again. Then she ran into Veronica’s bathroom and locked herself inside.

“Good luck getting your phone back now!” she announced to him.

The doorknob turned repeatedly. “Just give it back!” he called back, the knocking on the door loud and aggressive.

“Then tell me! What did I say? I _know_ I said something. I woke up feeling embarrassed. So don’t test me. What did I say?!” she told him. He was quiet for a long time. “Hello?” she called out when he said nothing.

Then, rather confidently, he said, “Well, you’re gonna _hate_ what you said.”

“What did I say?” she said, her heart pounding. _Please don’t be about the horny for Jughead phase. Please don’t be about the horny for Jughead phase. Please don’t be the horny –_

“It’s more of what you _did_ , really,” he said, almost teasingly. “Or _tried_ to do.”

_Oh no._

She placed the phone and the remote by the sink. Her hands started fidgeting. She felt her head grow hot.

“…What did I do?” she asked.

“Just open the door,” he said.

Betty opened the door and didn’t realize how closely he was standing in front of the bathroom. They were only inches away from each other. She looked up and saw him. She hated it. “What happened last night?” she asked him with finality, her voice small.

“You tried to kiss me,” Jughead said quietly, looking right at her.

Betty stepped back. Now her heart was beating extremely fast. She tried to _what?_ Her jaw dropped and her cheeks flushed red, mortified. “You’re lying! I would never do that!” she shouted, mouth twisting into disgust.

“You did,” he told her casually. Then he stepped forward and took his phone from the counter as if what he had said was nothing.

Betty came to a (false) realization that he was lying. This was part of his plot. He had clearly said that to catch her off guard so he could get his phone back. There was no way she could have done that. She must’ve done something else. As he turned around, she stepped forward and took his arm, making him face her. “You’re lying,” she told him.

His eyes met hers. “I’m not. You tried to do it several times, actually. On the dance floor, in the hall – ”

Betty shut her eyes and covered her ears. “Ew ew ew! You’re lying you’re lying you’re lying!” she shouted like a child who did not want to accept a hard fact.

“Whatever. You were _drunk._ People do things like that when they’re drunk – even when they’re with their worst enemies. You didn’t _mean it,_ ” he said, brushing it off. However, there was some kind of slight disappointment in the way he said it. Was it disappointment? Or was Betty imagining it?

Betty could’ve agreed with him, but Betty never lied when she was drunk. She didn’t lie about her feelings. She didn’t hold back. She did what she wanted to do, no matter how deep inside her mind those wants were. And now to know that drunk her – honest her – wanted to _kiss Jughead Jones_ was terrifying.

“Like – how? Show me how I did… what I did,” she said, eyes narrowed.

He looked at her, confused. “You want me to _show you how you tried to_ _– ?_ _”_

Betty realized how it sounded. “No!” she cut him off. “Obviously not. I just want to know _why?_ Why would I do that?” she thought out loud. “You’re… you.”

“Figure that out yourself,” he told her. Then he turned around once more and was about to walk away. Betty pulled him back again. He turned around. “What?”

Her head was spinning. Not because of the alcohol, though every thought in her head at that moment was pretty drunk. And when she was drunk… she did exactly what she wanted.

Betty didn’t realize what she was doing, but she just looked at him. Straight into his face. What was she doing? Why did she pull him back? Why was she looking at him like that?

Jughead, however, was looking at her too. Frozen in their own weird, awkward, random moment inside Veronica Lodge’s bathroom, they looked at each other. It had to be noted that Betty’s heart had somehow turned into a crazy fast drum beat. Her body was hot and cold at the same time. She was breathing hard and fast. Something had switched.

The lighting was perfect and she could truly see the features on his face, and yet everything was more unsure than it usually was.

And yet, that made sense.

Jughead involuntarily placed his phone on the sink and stepped forward, not breaking their eye contact. Her hand was still touching his arm. Her eyes darkened. Then, without a second thought, she stepped forward too and finally did what she had been trying to do the night before. Betty, as swift as the thoughts came, put her hands on his neck and went on her tiptoes, leaning towards him, feeling his body touch hers.

_What was she going to do what was she going to do._

She pressed her lips to his, closing her eyes, feeling every other rational thought leave her mind. It was a messy rush of a kiss at first, with him being too frozen to kiss back. Her lips moved against his steadily, parting his own – rather strangely, really – but something was exploding, pushing, flying, weighting in her chest. It was a scary feeling she couldn’t describe. But she was too in the moment to even _try_ to describe.

 _What was she doing what was she doing_.

And then he held her by the back of her head and kissed her back like he _wanted_ to kiss her back, and the whole kiss fell into place, and he was breathing heavily, his mouth moving against hers in a way that made it seem like they had been doing this forever.

_What was he doing what was he doing._

She melted into him. His hands were lightly pulling the back of hair. Why was he such a good kisser? Betty let out a soft, low moan when he deepened the kiss, feeling his tongue slip in her mouth tentatively. She pulled his face even closer as if she couldn’t get enough. The heat in her face and her body was a foreign blaze she wanted more and more. She lightly nipped on his bottom lip, running her hands through his hair, feeling his beanie fall to the floor. For what seemed to be a forever moment, it was just them, entranced, doing something they never thought they were ever going to do. All feelings they had directed towards each other before – all those bitter feelings – were somehow transforming into something else and channeling into their kiss. Those unspoken, untouched feelings were circulating, as if they weren’t bitter feelings at all, and it made zero sense. Unless –

Unless.

Betty shot her eyes opened and pulled away abruptly.

_What had they done what had they done._

She looked at Jughead, speechless, who matched her expression of flustered confusion. She stepped back, as far away as she could. The wall wasn’t far enough. Why had she _kissed_ Jughead? Why had he kissed back? What had just happened? Why had she _kissed Jughead Jones?!_

Just then, she heard the sound of kissing outside the room.

Archie and Veronica.

Dear God.

Jughead, panicked, locked the door behind him. They couldn’t know they were inside the bathroom. Doing God knows what.

“God, Archie. You’re so hot,” Veronica’s breathy voice was heard. They had entered the bedroom. Unzipping was heard. Betty and Jughead flinched.

She looked at him, her heart still pounding fast and her breathing still quick. “What the hell was that?” she whisper-said, glaring at his direction. She could almost still feel his mouth on hers – hard breathing, soft lips, hot force. _Stop._ Her breathing was still heavy.

“Why did you kiss me?” he whispered back, taking in breaths deeply.

“I – well shut up!” she whispered pathetically, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “You’re the one who moved closer to me and then put your phone on the sink! You were _preparing!_ You were _signaling!_ _”_

“You’re the one who _kissed me_ though,” he whispered. “Why would you _kiss me?!_ _”_

“Why would you kiss back?!” she shot back. “ _And_ with tongue!”

Jughead’s face turned even redder. “I was – whatever. If you hadn’t taken the remote in the first place – ”

“Or if you hadn’t been _signaling_  me in the first place – ”

“Signaling?! If you hadn’t grabbed me in the _second_ place – ”

Betty’s voice rose. “If you hadn’t moved _closer_ in the second place – ”

His voice got louder. “And if you hadn’t KISSED ME in the third place – ”

“YOU KISSED BACK! SO IN ALL PLACES, THIS IS YOUR FAULT FOR LETTING ME!” Betty suddenly yelled. She had no time to think about how bad her argument was; they were definitely heard outside. Their eyes widened. Betty covered her mouth.

“The hell?” Archie’s voice said. They began knocking on the door aggressively.

“Betty? Jughead? What’s going on in there?” Veronica said, thoroughly confused.

Jughead gave Betty an angry look before opening the door. “Sorry. We- uh, we were fighting. Yeah, fighting,” he explained nervously when Archie and Veronica’s puzzled faces met theirs. Archie was shirtless and Veronica had one of his button downs on.

“In my bathroom?” Veronica replied, eyebrow raised.

“You guys are talking again?” Archie remarked, his face brightening. Why was he so amused?

“Yeah… sorry. It… it escalated, you know how fights get,” Betty related unconvincingly, “then, you know… we heard you and Archie… you know… we didn’t want to bother you.” Betty started nodding aggressively at their alibi.

“O-kay…” Veronica said, nodding slowly. She looked at them both suspiciously.

“And I was just leaving,” Betty added suddenly, with all the force and anger she could muster. She pushed past Jughead and past her two friends. “I’ll be back for dinner. Sorry again. Goodbye.” _How pathetic was her goodbye?_

“Me too,” Jughead added from behind her.

Then, subconsciously, Betty and Jughead looked at each other at the same time. Eyes flashing at each other for a strange, confused, awkward moment. They ignored each other, leaving the house after each other, as if nothing happened.

* * *

 

Betty made her way to Pops where she sat at a booth and drank a milkshake, thinking about what had just happened. A month ago, what had transpired would have never even been _considered._ Jughead of the past was this unreachable nuisance that was always somehow too near her radius. She just wanted to get away from him and yell at him at the same time – not want him near and _kiss_ him.

Maybe it would’ve been _almost_ excusable if it was a one-time freak accident, like perhaps something went wrong in the way her thought process went down; but then she decided that there was something was clearly wrong with her that needed to be fixed, because the kiss was conceivably the worst thing she had ever done – and yet, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want to do it again.


	9. Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty goes on a date (and Jughead totally doesn’t care).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so so much for all the comments, the 2000+ hits, and the 100+ kudos! <3

The days that followed where immensely draining in spite of the lack of action or speech between Betty and Jughead. It hadn’t occurred to Betty that silence being loud was almost literal. She could _hear_ Jughead’s constant presence. With them being broke and having no choice but to stay inside the Pembrooke 24/7, drowning in the unwavering shock and confusion of what happened three days ago.

She sat on the counter, sipping her hot chocolate. Snow had fallen the night before, and snow fell hard on Riverdale. It seeped through the high-quality heaters of the Pembrooke.

Veronica’s parents were on a business trip until Christmas Eve while Veronica was sleeping over at Archie’s. Which left her and Jughead alone. Together. What a repulsive situation she was in, partly because she hated his guts but mostly because of the nagging, almost unrelenting urge to kiss him again.

Betty could feel Jughead’s eyes on her the whole morning. What was his deal? She kept trying to ignore it as she added more marshmallows in her cup. She kept trying not to look back, but every time she’d feel his eyes leave, she’d sneak a glimpse of him, in his pajamas, typing on his computer. He never stopped typing, did he?

When she finished her hot chocolate, she began to scroll through the feed on her phone. Nothing like a good distraction: Archie’s five-minute video of him fighting a punching bag, Cheryl and Toni’s photo album of their ski trip upstate, Josie McCoy’s cover of _Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas._ All was well. Maybe she could stop looking at Jughead now.

Then she saw her mom’s post. A photo of her in a pretty dress, sat by a country club overlooking a golf field, a glass of red wine in front of her. It was captioned: **A sunny holiday at California!**

Betty’s heart fell. Her mother was in California without her. She was fine. But of course she was. Why was Betty still surprised? Her breathing became heavier and she wondered again what life would’ve been like if she had tried harder. If she had been a better daughter.

The expression must’ve reflected what she was feeling, because Jughead was looking right at her.

Betty shot her eyes at him. _Why did he keep looking at her?_

She stomped to him and grabbed his wrist, making him stand up to face her. She pushed off a cliff the warm, electric feeling that went through her by touching him.

“What’s your deal?” she snapped at him. She had broken their silence.

He scowled at her. “ _My_ deal? You _keep_ looking at _me,_ _”_ he told her. “You even spilled your first cup of coffee while doing it.”

“It’s _hot chocolate,_ _”_ Betty corrected, realizing as she said it that it was not only irrelevant, but childish. “And SHUT UP!” she added pathetically.

“ _I_ should shut up?! You’re the one raising your voice! _”_ he exclaimed.

“Well, you’re just annoying,” she told him, crossing her arms over her chest.

“But _you_ kissed _me._ So if you find me annoying… that doesn’t add up,” he told her, feigning a deep-thinking face. God, was he really using that?

“But you kissed back! So we’re even!” she yelled back at him. Why was he being so calm? And why was she so stressed out?

“That doesn’t make us even. You still initiated it,” Jughead told her, unfazed. “The initiator should get the blame because I, the reactor, was just caught off guard and simply – ”

“ – shut up, you’re wrong,” she cut him off.

“I’m wrong? I made a fair point.”

“Just because I _kissed_ you, it doesn’t mean I _initiated_ it! You’re the one who moved closer to me! Like, WHO DOES THAT TO SOMEONE THEY HATE?” Betty shouted, leaning forward. They were way too close again. “So what’s wrong with you, huh?! Do you _like_ me?!”

His eyes widened. It was his turn to be defensive and frazzled. “What – NO!” he denied loudly (almost too loudly, really).

Betty felt something else drop in her chest. She did her best to ignore it.

“I – okay. Good,” she said, not matching their previous energy. She had no idea what she was feeling.

“Why, do you?” he asked her, his face blank.

“ _No_ _way!_ _”_ she answered defensively. Why did she answer that way? It wasn’t all too convincing.

Jughead seemed a little caught off-guard with how loudly and defensively she spoke. “Okay. Good,” he said, eyebrows crossed, looking away and avoiding her face.

She looked down, too. “Yeah. Good. Because I hate you,” she said to him.

He turned to her again. “Trust me. Mutual,” he said, nodding.

“ _Way_ mutual,” she supplemented, as if she was trying to convince herself of that, too. She turned to him, trying to ignore the urge to do what she had done before.

“Good.”

“Good.”

“Great.” He sat back down and got his computer.

“Great!” Betty exclaimed, walking back to the counter and swiping her phone and deciding to go to the bathroom. She ended up not doing it, though, when Veronica arrived back home and ambushed her.

“B!” she called after her. Betty turned around and saw an excited Veronica. “Are you doing anything today?”

“Hi, Veronica. Uh, no, why?”

“Well…” Veronica started, clasping her hands together, “an old friend of mine is visiting town and I was hoping I could set you up with him? Double date with me and Archie. Lunch at Pops. It’ll be cute.”

Betty could almost swear she saw Jughead turn to their direction from the corner of her eye.

“His name is _Elio Grande_ , and our families have been business partners slash friends since _forever_. He’s a very respectful, very handsome, and very sweet guy,” she advertised. “I just _know_ you’ll like him.”

Betty thought about it. Wealthy, big city boy didn’t really sit well with her. “I don’t know. Would we even click?” she asked her friend.

“Come _on_! You’ve been so down lately. You even left the dance early. Have some fun. Take a chance. Get some _action_ ,” Veronica told her, winking dramatically at the word _action._

“I mean, what would we even talk about?” she said.

“ _The New Yorker._ Your careers. Talk about the highs and woes of small-town and big-city living,” Veronica laid out. “Are you in?”

She considered the idea of a completely foreign person discussing to her the highs and woes of big-city living, which was highly unappealing in practically every way. Then she considered another way of viewing the set-up: the perfect way to get rid of the disease on her mind and on her lips – Jughead.

Betty was sold.

“I’m in.”

“Great! I’ll go get changed,” Veronica practically squeals, running into her bedroom.

Betty smiled to herself. Jughead stood up from where he was sitting and approached her. _Why was he approaching her?_

“Are you going on that date?” he asked her, his expression unreadable. Was there bitterness in his voice? _There was always bitterness in his voice,_ Betty reminded herself.

“Why are you talking to me?” she snapped at him, taking her phone and continuing her scroll. She forced the thoughts of kissing him away from her mind. They were almost off the ledge. (Almost).

He blinked at her, then decided not to answer. Why _was_ he talking to her? He sat by the counter and brought his phone out, too.

After minutes of silence, Betty talked again, the curiosity nagging her. “Why do you care?” she asked him. Why had he been listening?

“I – I don’t,” Jughead responded, turning to look at her. “It’s just… you and _Elio Grande?_ Do you _hear_ that name? And I mean, very _respectful,_ very _sweet,_ and then there’s you, _”_ Jughead said, emphasizing his disgust at Elio Grande’s name and the words Veronica had used to describe him. “Good luck with that. Enjoy hearing his snobby comments about Riverdale.” He was thoroughly acrimonious towards the simple idea of him.

There went Jughead and his obvious hatred for rich people.

“You jealous that someone will complain more than you do?” Betty told him, shooting him a sour look. He definitely _looked_ jealous, with the sour twist on his mouth and the glower in his eyes.

“Why would I be jealous of someone who has to spend time with you?” he scoffed. “But I feel sorry for you, too. Why would you even _want_ to spend time with a guy like that? He’s a rich snob, no doubt.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please. I’d have lunch with _Satan_ if it meant I’d be away from you,” she derided.

Jughead put his phone down. “Come on. Having lunch with family’s not so bad, Cooper,” he countered.

“Ha-ha.” Betty glowered at him, putting her phone down, too. “Hope you enjoy having lunch here _alone._ _”_

“I’m not staying here alone. I’m heading for Pops, too,” he told her.

“Why? So you can disturb me?” Betty asked, eyes narrowed.

“I had plans on going there since yesterday,” Jughead explained, not meeting her eyes. _Was he lying?_ He was definitely lying. He got dressed in pajamas today, meaning he probably had zero plans of going out until now. But she was not surprised. Why else would he want to be at Pops while she was on a date? Clearly to nuisance her. He really hated her, didn’t he?

“Whatever. I’m getting changed. I hope your coffee’s spoiled,” she said, heading to their room.

“I hope someone puts ketchup in your lunch,” Jughead replied behind her.

* * *

 

Elio Grande was as polished and refined a person could be. He wore a suit, for starters, which made Betty and Archie feel underdressed with their sweaters and jeans.

The four sat at a booth at Pops, with Betty and Veronica sat beside each other and their dates in front of them. Veronica kept turning to Betty and Elio, hoping to catch sparks flying. Unfortunately, Betty was pretty sure there were none. She didn’t know how to act around him and it seemed that neither did he. They were awkwardly polite.

To make matters worse, Jughead had sat himself (very conveniently) across the room, the perfect diagonal view from Betty. She couldn’t help but turn to him every time Elio would go on his long talks about business, which was all the time. Betty pinned her general distaste for the date to Jughead, who could not stop looking at her, either.

“ _Rich snob,_ _”_ he mouthed to her during a particularly long account about… boxing, was it?

Betty took her phone on the pocket secretively, looking under the table. She went on the Notes app. She didn’t have Jughead’s number, but maybe his Airdrop settings were on. **Stop bothering me.** She immediately figured out which account was his. _Coffee Boy._ What a pretentious name for a pretentious guy. She sent it to him and it was accepted almost instantly. Jughead shook his head at his phone.

 _Coffee Boy would like to share a note with you._ Betty accepted.

**I** **’m doing nothing?**

Betty almost rolled her eyes. **I** **’m having fun, FYI. You** **’re just bothering me. Stop looking at me!!!!**

“ – though it’s why I find myself highly interested in becoming a boxing manager, lately. Any sports interests, Betty?” Elio said. Betty shot her eyes at him at the sound of her name.

“Oh, yeah. You used to be _obsessed_ with Mayweather,” Veronica said, laughing. She seemed to sense that Betty wasn’t enjoying herself, so she tried to spice things up by laughing at things that weren’t funny. Poor Veronica.

“I wouldn’t say _obsessed,_ _”_ Elio told her. He turned to Betty once more expectantly.

“Oh. No. I’m not really into sports,” Betty explained. She looked back down at her phone, seeing another request from Jughead.

 **Has the very respectful and very sweet Elio Grande insulted Riverdale yet?** She decided to ignore it. Jughead couldn’t be right.

“Really? A town _this small_ and you have no urge to just… get moving?” Elio said. Spoke to soon. Jughead couldn’t have been more right. The moment he wasn’t talking about himself, it was now talking about his views on Riverdale – which weren’t everyman-friendly.

Betty narrowed her eyes at him. “How does the size of my town correlate to my interest in sports?”

“I just thought: small town, big dreams, you know,” he explained. “But I get it now. I was wrong. It’s like, what could even drive anyone to like sports in a town like this? Your best facilities are probably in your local high school. Your biggest attraction’s your _river,_ for Christ’s sake. This diner’s your top date spot.” Elio began to laugh. No one else joined him. Everything he was saying seemed to get worse and worse. He had the gall to insult Pops, too. His smile faded, then he turned to Veronica. “No offense, but I have _no_ idea how Veronica adjusted here.” He said the last part so loudly and condescendingly that some people turned their heads.

“I didn’t think I would, either. But it’s really the _people._ You know, good people, _”_ Veronica told Elio with a smile. There was a way she said it that was signature Veronica-shady. Elio began to look uncomfortable. Archie gave Veronica a proud smile.

Betty turned to Jughead, who seemed to have heard Elio’s snobby comment.

He sent her another note.

**Told you.**

He was right. But she wasn’t going to show him that. She put her phone away.

* * *

 

“I’m sorry about Elio,” Veronica told Betty on the way back to the Pembrooke. Veronica sat in between Archie and Betty, while Jughead was seated in the front after Veronica offered him a ride. “I don’t remember him being so snooty. I suppose it’s the rose-colored glasses I have on when I reminisce the New York days. And compared to me other friends… he was one of the nicer ones. Be that as it may, I shouldn’t have put you in that guy’s fifty-foot radius. So I apologize.”

Betty smiled at her. “It’s okay. You do _not_ have to apologize at all. I appreciate the intention. And it was nice meeting someone new, even if he was very...”

“Self-absorbed? Patronizing?” Veronica suggested.

“Assholish?” Archie supplemented.

They laughed. “A lot of adjectives fall on him. I can’t believe we used to be _friends,_ _”_ Veronica said with the playful roll of her eyes. “I’m glad I met you guys. You showed me what I was missing: real good people.” She placed her hand over Betty’s and leaned on Archie’s shoulder.

“I’m glad I met you, too, Ronnie,” Archie said, kissing her forehead.

Betty squeezed her best friend’s hand, feeling soft. How grateful she was to have a friend like her.

“Believe me, we _all_ are,” Jughead added from the front seat. Finally, she could agree with Jughead. Of course they were grateful to know Veronica Lodge. Betty and Jughead had no idea where they’d be were it not for Veronica. Literally.


	10. Traditions Are Traditions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are going down.

Christmas was strange without family. Not that her past Christmases ever felt like Christmas, really. But traditions were traditions, and Betty was used to her mom’s delicious food serving as a thin veil trying to cover the endless family drama that found its way circulating the most wonderful time of the year. Christmas always started with yelling and ended in tears: divorce announcements, talks of mistresses, pie being thrown. She remembered last Christmas like it was yesterday: Polly coming home after months of nothing only to announce she was pregnant, her mother yelling at her and then on the phone with Hal, then Polly disappearing in the middle of the night with only a note saying _I_ _’ll be okay. Merry Christmas._ Perhaps it was tradition to have Christmas somehow be the worst holiday of the year, but Betty wished for it in spite of it all. Because she’d be lying if she said that she missed her mother. She missed when she had a mother who tried.

Though traditions were traditions; so against all odds, there was still someone who tried: Veronica Lodge. Veronica, who barged in Betty and Jughead’s room on the morning of the 24th with a Santa hat on. “Merry Christmas Eve! Wake up!” she announced, throwing hats in the directions of their heads.

Betty and Jughead were shocked awake by Veronica’s chirpiness, sitting up immediately. Betty tried not to groan in annoyance, because, well, this was Veronica. And she was a guest. Veronica made her way across the room and drew the curtains, letting in more light. And just as the two were beginning to adjust to the brightness, a loud Glee rendition of _Jingle Bell Rock_ thundered its way into the ears of the newly-wakes.

 _“Jingle bells chime in jingle bells time,_ _”_ Veronica sang, grooving along to the beat. Betty saw she was dressed in bright red and was acting as though it wasn’t 6 in the morning. “Come on, guys! It’s Christmas Eve! Wake up!”

Betty turned to Jughead, whose eyes were still closed. He blindly tried to reach for his beanie somewhere in the messy bed. Betty expected no less from Veronica, who loved Christmas more than anything. She clearly had something brewing for today, proof being the giddy look on her face.

When she had their attention, she began her speech. “So, big plans for today. As you know, in pure Veronica fashion, Christmas is my favorite holiday – gifts, dinners, planning. What’s not to like? Anyhow, Christmas Eve is _crucial._ I plan the day and perform today on the dot. I’ll say this only once so listen clearly. So,” she started, clasping her hands together in excitement. “I’m giving you two hours to have breakfast and to get ready. We’re heading for the grocery store, where we’ll be purchasing ingredients for tonight, then the three of us are going to prepare Christmas dinner when we get back – this is a dinner traditionally prepared by me alone, but I’m willing to make some changes. Then we’re going to have the traditional Lodge Christmas dinner at 10pm which will be just in time for my parents’ return from their business trip. Are we clear?”

But Betty was not expecting _that._

Perhaps traditions _were_ traditions. This Christmas would still be full of the usual yelling and screaming, just not with the tears for the finale, though.

She looked at Jughead, whose face had lit up so suddenly. Dear God, why was he so excited? Maybe she was dreaming, because Veronica was basically saying a whole day preparing Christmas dinner with _Jughead._ Which was horrible in every aspect. And yet his smile hadn’t wavered. He practically jumped out of bed.

* * *

 

Veronica sat in the middle of Betty and Jughead on the way to the grocery. Jughead hummed _Jingle Bell Rock_ the whole way through, annoying Betty. He even took off his beanie and put on the Santa hat. Why was he so happy? What was going on?

“ _So,_ _”_ Veronica began, “what are your Christmas traditions, guys?”

It was a casual question, and yet answering it truthfully would be highly personal. Betty took in a deep breath, unsure of what to say.

“Oh. You know. Basic stuff. Some food. Some alcohol. Noise.” Jughead smiled. Almost too nicely. Maybe he was unsure of what to say, either.

“Yeah. Some good food and a _lot_ of talking,” Betty replied. They were both incredibly vague. It could be hypothesized that their past Christmases might’ve been similar.

* * *

 

The grocery was packed. But Veronica, ever prepared, popped out two lists from her coat, excited.

“Since it’s Christmas, I expect you two should walking on eggshells around each other. I don’t want any fights. If not for your own sakes, for _mine,_ _”_ Veronica told them. She showed both of them a single list. “This is yours. We’re splitting up to save time. Christmas Eve is crazy. And I know what you’re thinking: _why are there only two lists when we_ _’re three people?_ The answer: _you two will be shopping together._ _”_

 _“TOGETHER?!_ _”_ Betty repeated, horrified.

“Yes, Betty,” Veronica answered unfazed, “you two will be _together._ I’m thinking Jughead’s love of food and your love for organization will trump your silly grievances and make both of you work for the interest of this very special dinner. I trust the maturity that lies within each of you. I want the freshest of the fresh. Do not worry about the prices. I will handle that. I just want the _best food you can get._ Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jughead said, a smile on his face. Jughead’s eyes were bright and happy, which was strange considering Veronica said they’d have to go shopping _together,_ though Betty figured it wasn’t so weird anymore considering they were at a food haven. Maybe Veronica was right. His love for food could trump anything. If she didn’t hate him so much, maybe she’d think it was endearing. But _ugh,_ her mind repeated. A big old _ugh._

“Got it.” Betty took the list and grabbed the nearest grocery cart. Veronica was on her way to the meats and cheeses section.

“This one’s better,” Jughead said, taking his own grocery cart.

Betty glared at him. “Seriously? Fighting me already?” she said.

“I’m not fighting you. Your cart’s rusty and has a bunch of gross hair stuck on the wheels,” he explained, pointing. Betty looked and realized he made fair points.

“Okay. Whatever,” she said, walking over to him with the roll of her eyes.

Jughead snatched the list from her, reading through it. “Pecans, green beans, onions, carrots… Blah blah… Ooh. Let’s get chocolate bars first,” he said, his eyes full of child-like wonder.

She got the list back from him, shaking her head. “Nope. We’re getting our fruits and vegetables first. Chocolate’s all the way on the other end. Control yourself, will you?” she told him.

“Okay,” he simply said, no harsh comment present.

Betty was confused. “ _You_ push the cart,” she said, in the harshest way anyone could say _you push the cart._

She began walking in front of the cart, taking the potatoes and carrots they needed. As she looked through the green beans, the cart Jughead was pushing bumped into her. Betty turned around, thinking this was no accident. And even if it was, he had _one job._ “What the hell?” she snapped, eyeing him icily.

“My mistake,” he said, not sorry at all. In fact, he looked amused. Betty walked over to him and grabbed the Santa hat on his head. Then she threw it at his face. “Hey!” he exclaimed, taking it and putting it back on properly.

“You two make an adorable couple,” a middle-aged lady who was passing by said, smiling at them.

Betty’s face wrinkled into disgust. “We’re not – ”

Jughead put his arm around her, which was just enough body contact to shut her up. She felt hot all of a sudden, in spite of it being December. “Thank you. Merry Christmas,” he told the lady, giving her a winning smile.

“Merry Christmas,” she replied sweetly, heading away.

When she was out of earshot, Betty shoved his arm away. “What was that? What’s wrong with you?!” she told him, crossing her arms over her chest, feeling different. “Why are you so happy and weird?”

“Come on. She didn’t need your negativity, Cooper,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “It’s Christmas! We’re gonna have a dinner – no, a _feast_ _–_ with _a bunch of food._ At a house that’s welcomed us these past weeks. There is no reason to be so grumpy. We should be grateful. Nothing could possibly ruin my mood. Not even _you._ ”

Betty narrowed her eyes at him. _“Nothing?_ Seriously? Let me put it this way: you’re spending Christmas at your best friend’s girlfriend’s house, that you’re still living in for God-knows-what reason. And you’re at the grocery – your favorite place, I’m assuming – with _me,_ someone you _hate,_ _”_ she shot back at him.

He only grinned. “ _Nothing_ can ruin my mood, so don’t even try.”

* * *

 

And for a while, Jughead kept his word. He mixed the sauce happily, inhaling the aroma that filled the house. Betty was horrified at the sight of him moving his hips to Veronica’s Christmas playlist. As she chopped potatoes, Betty looked at him in raw confusion, wondering what had gotten into him today. Where was the pretentious and complaining Jughead who would never so much as hum a tune but was now singing and dancing to _Here Comes Santa Claus_ as if no one was watching?

Veronica looked at Betty, thoroughly (though happily) surprised. “What’s up with Jughead?” she asked. “I didn’t know he liked Christmas so much.”

Betty turned once more to Jughead. _“So hang your stockings and say your prayers cause Santa Claus comes tonight,_ _”_ Jughead sang along, hitting the ladle at the edge of the pot many times to match the beat.

She turned back to Veronica. “No idea. He’s so weird,” she said, rolling her eyes.

The doorbell rang. “Oh! That’s Archie. He’s heading to Chicago with his dad tonight to surprise his mom, so he’s dropping by to give his gift and goodbyes,” Veronica said excitedly, dropping the wooden spoon in her hand. She ran to the door and saw Archie. “Merry Christmas Eve, Archiekins!” she said, excitedly, hugging him.

Archie hugged her back. “Merry Christmas Eve, Ronnie. It smells so good in here.”

“I have your gift. Hold on!” Veronica announced, running into her room.

Archie laughed, heading to the kitchen where Betty and Jughead cooked. “Happy Christmas Eve, Archie,” Jughead greeted his best friend. “This sauce is _great._ I’m so tempted to try it but Veronica’s orders say no way,” he added with a laugh. A _laugh._ Betty shuddered inside.

“Ha-ha,” Archie replied awkwardly, giving Betty a look. He approached her. “What’s going on with him?” he asked her quietly. It was quiet enough, because Jughead’s singing drowned it out. It had to be noted that he was _not_ a good singer. Betty thought she should record it as future blackmail when he reverted back to his normal, moody ways.

“Like I care,” Betty answered.

“Do you think something’s wrong? Ronnie’s been obsessed with Anna Freud lately, and she keeps talking about defense mechanisms. Denial? Repression? Sound familiar?” he said. A glimpse of Jughead adding salt to the sauce with the drama of an Italian chef was all too familiar. “Maybe something’s going on with him,” Archie said, eyebrows furrowed. “I have _never,_ in my years of friendship with him, ever heard him _sing._ _”_

“I don’t know, Arch. And I really don’t care about Jughead’s defense mechanisms,” Betty told him, putting the chopped potatoes in a plate and beginning to peel carrots.

“Okay,” Archie said, just as Veronica ran into the room with a big box wrapped in red wrapping paper.

“Open it tomorrow and tell me what you think,” Veronica said excitedly. Archie pulled her close. Betty turned away as they kissed as if no one was watching.

“This is your gift,” Archie told Veronica, giving her a small paper bag. “Tell me what you think, too.”

“Thank you!” Veronica said, hugging him once more.

Betty was never the jealous type, but seeing the kind of love that surrounded Archie and Veronica was a punch in the gut. Veronica was here, making dinner for her family set to arrive home. Archie was headed for Chicago to be with his mom. And here Betty was, without a family to celebrate with. She was practically Jughead, but even _he_ was handling their situation well. So while Betty eternally grateful for Veronica, it hurt knowing that her own blood couldn’t be bothered to even give her a phone call.

When the lovebirds were done, Betty and Jughead gave Archie their gifts, and Archie left their gifts under the Christmas tree. He left and they continued cooking.

* * *

 

Jughead put on a sweater with cutesy reindeer designs. He happily set the table. He turned up the volume of the Christmas music. He began a lively conversation with Hiram Lodge about real estate. It was as though Jughead was a totally different person all of a sudden because of the holiday. And no, he was not drinking. He hadn’t touched the wine or eggnog at all. This was purely sober Jughead, deciding to have fun.

Traditions were sometimes not traditions, Betty supposed.

“Oh yeah. Makes sense,” Jughead told Hiram, sipping from his glass of wine. They were talking about celebrities? Betty found it hard to keep up.

“Beverly Hills is a whole other world, believe me,” Hiram added. They both laughed. What was so funny, Betty could not place.

Hermione and Veronica were laughing about some old Christmas memories from New York. In many ways, Betty was left out. Not that she cared. Betty was just glad to eat somewhere.

A text message sound was heard. It came from Jughead’s phone. He sat across from her, so Betty watched as he picked it up and read it. His eyebrows furrowed and his smile left his face. His smile hadn’t left his face all day.

He swallowed nervously. “Sorry. Can you excuse me? I need to get some air,” he said, putting his phone in his pocket. Something had changed in his mood.

“Is everything alright?” Hiram asked.

“Oh, yeah. ‘course. The wine’s getting to me, that’s all,” Jughead said, giving them a tight-lipped smile. Betty knew he was lying. Jughead hadn’t touched his wine at all.

What was bothering him? What was that text he just got? He stood up and took his coat and was out the door.

“He didn’t seem okay,” Hermione said.

She knew she shouldn’t’ve cared at all, Betty’s curiosity was getting the better of her.

_Nothing could possibly ruin my mood._

What had possibly ruined his mood? Her mind was itching and scrambling for a possible answer.

“I can check on him,” Betty volunteered, standing up. It was one of her few words over dinner.

Veronica looked at her best friend suspiciously. “B – ”

“We haven’t fought all day. We’ll be fine,” she said, reassuring her. Betty headed out, taking a coat with her.

He was nowhere in the building. She figured since he had taken his coat, he probably had gone outside. But for what reason?

When she was outside, the rush of cold, icy air hit her, but not as hard as the sight of Jughead Jones and his intoxicated father, in the moment that would change everything she thought she knew about the boy she believed she hated.


	11. Traditions? New Traditions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Probably the biggest chapter so far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: IMPLICIT MENTIONS OF ADDICTION & SUBSTANCE ABUSE
> 
> This was the hardest chapter I’ve ever written? I have so many drafts and versions of it. I just didn’t want to get it wrong but this is what came out and even though I’m not really happy with it, I’m glad I finally finished it.

Perhaps traditions were traditions.

Food, yelling, tears. Painful words and storming away. That was the usual formula for Betty’s Christmases. And until that moment, Betty thought the tradition was long gone. And yet she watched the living proof that she was wrong right in front of her.

Some things began to make sense. Like why Jughead hadn’t touched the wine or the eggnog all night. Or why he watched out for her during her drinking charade during the dance. He grew up around the bitter memories of alcohol. Around his dad who, it seemed, had been battling sobriety for a while.

She couldn’t see Jughead’s face. But she did not need to in order to hear every painful emotion that made her body shiver – and not just from the cold, but from whatever feeling she was feeling. She watched the scene, frozen.

“Let me in, boy. Let me in – ” FP Jones was arguing. Jughead held him back.

 _“_ Dad… please. Just calm down,” Jughead said, his voice hushed and tired and cold and different. He was crying. Betty could hear that he was crying. She had never seen him cry before. And while days ago she’d have wished she had, she felt this urge to make him stop. Hearing him cry pulled on something in her chest.

“But Christmas – Christmas was always you and me, boy. Us. The family,” his dad said, clearly drunk and confused, trying to walk forward, but barely doing so in a straight line, and barely at all with Jughead holding him back, grasping his father’s shoulders tight.

“I… I know, dad. I’m sorry,” Jughead croaked. He never sounded like that before.

His father looked right at his son, eyes big. “Has your mom called? Can you tell her that I’m… that… that she can come home?” his dad said, hopeful.

Jughead looked down. “She hasn’t called,” he replied softly.

“Oh. I’m sorry, boy. I’m sorry. This is _my_ fault. My fault,” FP Jones said to him, pointing at himself firmly. “If I hadn’t… I’m sorry, boy. If I wasn’t so… if I wasn’t irresponsible. If – ”

“No no no,” Jughead cut him off. “This… none of this is your fault, dad. Okay? None of this. None. Of. This.” Betty could hear, in the cracks and softness of his words, that he was trying to be strong. “You’ve tried. You’ve tried. But these circumstances that you’re in – they have _never_ been your fault. Addiction is… your addiction is not your fault. And you’ve done your part. Look at me, dad. Look at me.” Jughead pulled his dad’s face to look at his own. “I’m fine. I’m fine,” Jughead said, trying to believe it himself.

FP looked at his son. Betty wasn’t sure what he was seeing, but something changed in his expression. Pride. For his son. In the way parents see their children all grown up and accomplished.

Jughead’s strength was perhaps the greatest accomplishment, it appeared.

“And you don’t ever have to worry about me anymore, dad,” Jughead continued. His voice was firm and strong. No croaks. No softness. And yet the words he uttered were words nobody – especially not a teenage boy all on his own –  should ever have to utter. “I’ll be – I’m going to be okay. I’m already okay. I’m okay. Just… just focus on yourself, dad, okay? You don’t have to worry about me. You don’t need to be responsible for me anymore. You don’t need to chase mom, or put our family back together, or ever worry about spending Christmas with me, dad. Ever. Okay? I got this… I – I got this. We’ll figure it out. We always do. And we are going to be okay.”

This was a part he showed nobody. Not to Archie. Not to his friends. Certainly not to her. And in listening to him, Betty didn’t see Jughead at all. Betty didn’t _hear_ Jughead at all. She didn’t hear this boy who got on her nerves and complained constantly and typed on his laptop too loudly in the middle of the night and raced her to the bathroom and wore stupid beanies for stupid reasons.

This was simply a boy who had to grow up too fast. A victim of circumstance. Someone who was alone too soon. Someone who did not deserve what was happening to him.

 

And it was on that Christmas Eve, in the cold of the streets, the snow falling above them, that for the first time in forever, Betty felt the urge to reach out to him.

 

A car pulled over. His dad looked at him, some unreadable expression on his face. There was a lot going on. But for now, for Jughead, that seemed to be enough.

“I got you a ride back. Get yourself cleaned up. It’s been a long night,” Jughead told him. As if he was the adult in their conversation.

FP considered what his son said for a moment. Then he looked at his son. “Merry Christmas, boy,” he said.

Jughead looked to the floor then back to his father. “Merry Christmas, dad.”

When it had driven away, Jughead turned around. It was strange. His bright sweater was out of place seeing the teary, broken expression he was wearing when he saw Betty, who had seen everything.

“Jughead – ” she started.

“What are you doing here? Did you – did you see that?” he cut her off roughly, eyebrows furrowed.

“I – you just stormed off,” she replied, walking towards him. She spoke with a tone she had never used with him: gentle and sympathetic. “We got worried. Are you… are you okay?”

He laughed bitterly, his entire aura hostile, as if he wasn’t just crying earlier. “ _You. Worried. Funny.”_

“No… I…” Betty stood close in front of him. She gave him an empathic look, trying her best to show him that she had no place hating him. In that moment, at least. “I understand, Jughead. I do.”

He ignored her, walking past her. Betty followed him, walking in front of him and touching his shoulder.

“Hey,” she breathed out. “You can… I… I understand. My family… we’re not… we’re not… I understand,” she told him. She had no idea what to say. But she wanted to say _something._

He shook his head, looking right at Betty. “You don’t understand. You don’t understand at all.”

“I know what it’s like,” she explained.

“You know what it’s like?” he repeated bitterly.

“Yeah,” she continued, “to have parents that don’t – ”

“To _have_ parents,” he interrupted. “You know what that’s like.”

She had no idea what to say.

“I didn’t. In fact, I was a _mistake._ And I’ve always been jealous of you.” He was breathing hard, eyes burning with a rage she hadn’t seen on him before. “Crazy, right? Because your parents made a cozy little house, got married, had your sister, and then _decided_ to have you. Then maybe things stopped being a little too picture perfect – but _hey,_ they had a custody battle over you. Yeah, Cooper. Do you not realize that? They _wanted_ you. They _fought_ over you! Then you got to live with your dad, who makes quite the money with that newspaper of his. And after that – after you _left_ your dad for God-knows-what reason and you came to live with your mom, you push her away and publish shit on your paper saying she’s ‘helicopter parenting’ you when her only mistake was _caring too much.”_

Betty looked at him, stunned.

 _“_ I was JEALOUS that you had a mom who didn’t LEAVE YOU when your dad FUCKED UP,” he continued, voice rising. “Mine just – God. You don’t get it, okay? You _don’t_ understand. And you can’t come over here after everything that’s happened and act like you were actually here to _try._ ”

It stung. And while everything he said rang true to her ears, all sympathy she felt towards him disappeared in an instant. He had no right to psychoanalyze her situation. He had no right to say all that to her when she was trying – for the first time – to be nice. A rage engulfed her. Betty felt her body grow hot, her eyes go wet, and her hands curl into fists.

“You know what?!” she yelled at him, “I was actually _trying_ to reach out to you. And then you – and then you – ”

“And then I _what?_ You don’t _care_ about other people!” he exclaimed. “You _never_ have. And you want me to believe you’re here to _reach_ out?!”

“Well I’m _sorry_ that I’m too selfish to CARE!” Betty shouted back. “You just _love_ being the victim, right? Because all our lives are so _perfect_ except for _yours!”_

Jughead rolled his eyes. “ _I’m_ the one who loves playing _victim?!_ Okay, well, you know what _I_ think, Cooper?”

“What? What? Because I care SO MUCH about what you have to say!” She was so loud; she could feel her throat itching. Her head was burning.

“I think you’re BITTER,” he began, “and your immature self can’t handle the smallest inconveniences because nobody _coddled_ you long enough. And now, you’re _acting out_ because suddenly, your life’s not the only shitty one! Afraid of competition, Betty?”

Betty and Jughead did not hear the door open. They did not see Veronica come outside and watch the rest of their dispute.

“Wow! Thank you, doctor!” she cried sarcastically, arms extended. “Well, you know what _I_ think? I think you’re a _hypocrite._ You act like you’re the only one who has a _shit_ life! You think you’re so _different_ and _mysterious_ and _odd.”_ Betty pointed at him, narrowing her eyes at him. _“_ Like all your opinions are _correct._ Like you can _read_ people. Like you can judge everyone. Like you can judge _ME._ Well, you may have grown up in the South Side, but you’re just like us. You’re _young_ and _stupid_ and _pretentious._ And you don’t know better than the rest of us! And the only thing that makes you different is that you think that you’re _better.”_

“You know what _I_ think?!” he shot back, eyes burning, “I think you’re _spoiled!_ And that’s why your dad couldn’t raise you! And that’s why you got kicked out because FINALLY your mom got _sick_ of you! And I think that EVERYTHING that has happened to you this far is YOUR FAULT!”

“YOU DON’T THINK I KNOW THAT?!” she shouted, voice breaking. Her tone and volume and feelings and _everything_ that was happening were completely foreign to her. The inexplicable rage in her turned into something else: a painful kind of sadness. The kind that tugged on her very heart. Betty knew tears were falling down her face. But she had no time to care. Only time to yell. “AND _YOU’RE_ ONE TO TALK, JUGHEAD! YOU WEREN’T GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOUR PARENTS EITHER!”

The last part made his expression change. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

“Well, you know what _I_ think?” a voice that wasn’t Betty’s or Jughead’s said. Caught off guard, they turned to find Veronica, who was looking at both of them, arms crossed. “That _none_ of this should be happening.”

They stared at her blankly, unsure of what to do or say. What was Veronica saying?

“Follow me.”

* * *

 

Betty and Jughead ended up at a booth at Pops sitting across each other. Veronica stood in the middle, looking down at both of them. “Look, I don’t want to get mad,” she started, “and this is my favorite holiday, and while I’m disappointed that my two friends ruined my family’s most special day of the year by being loud enough to ruin the dinners of everyone on the block, I know that it hasn’t been your ideal holiday, either. And I know you’ve tried these past few weeks. Especially these past few hours – you’ve tried. Especially you, Jughead…”

Betty and Jughead turned to the floor, unsure again of what to say.

“So I’m not holding this against you. I shouldn’t,” she told them. “Look, I’m sorry all of this has happened. On Christmas, no less. And while Christmas is food and gifts and whatnot, it’s also a time of change. Forgiveness. Reconciliation. Resolution. So, allow me to explain why you two are here at Pops, which I’m sure is confusing, but hear me out.

“I have a theory: I think that… you two don’t even _hate_ each other. It’s based on my observations these past years. And I think that whatever this… this contention is between you two… they’re defense mechanisms. Displacement. Regression. Look, I’m no expert, but you two seemed to have no problem playing expert tonight. So, let’s test out this solution I’ve concocted: that what you both need… is to sit down and have a nice and civil conversation.”

Betty’s eyes widened. “But – ”

Veronica raised a finger. “No buts. I’m still talking. Here’s the deal: it currently is…” Veronica began, checking her watch, “11:35pm. I will be back here at 1am to bring you guys back home.” She pointed three booths away, where Andre, her chauffeur sat with a cup of coffee. “Andre will be here, making sure you two don’t turn Pops into a crime scene. For every word spoken with even _slight_ aggression, there will be a 5-minute extension.”

“ _What?!”_ Jughead said, face sour.

“1:05am,” Veronica snapped, shooting him a pointed look. “So. You may not transfer seats. You may not stand up unless you need to use the bathroom. You have 2 bathroom breaks each. Five minutes each bathroom break. In case you get hungry, feel free to order anything. On me. Got it?”

They nodded, speechless.

“Now. Hand me your phones,” Veronica said, extending her hands.

They reluctantly handed it to her.

“Thank you,” she said. “Now, I’m going to leave with a question you each can ponder: _why_ do you hate each other?”

Veronica took her handbag and walked out the diner, heels clicking.

It was just her, Jughead, and Veronica’s chauffeur eating at the diner. It was empty, it being Christmas Eve and all.

Betty was furious. Christmas had once more won the Worst Holiday award. She decided she was _not_ going to have a ‘nice and civil’ conversation with Jughead Jones of all people. She decided to sit close to the window, staring into the cold, empty streets of Riverdale.

Jughead, it seemed, decided to order food, even though they had just been eating thirty minutes ago. A plate of waffles and a burger appeared soon enough, together with a hot cup of black coffee. Betty wanted to vomit. How was he _not_ full at all?

She stood up, deciding to make use of her five minutes away from his bothersome presence.

Five minutes was not enough. She was back in front of him in no time. He was almost done with his burger. How fast did he eat?

She glared at him for a long time. He, bothered by her look, furrowed his brows at her. “What?” he whispered so Veronica’s chauffeur couldn’t hear.

“This is all your fault. I was _genuinely_ trying to reach out,” she told him, crossing her arms. She tried her best to remain calm. She did _not_ want an extension.

“Well, I’m sorry I wasn’t accommodating to your sudden – but overdue – ‘character development’,” he shot back sarcastically with air quotes, voice low so as to not warrant another extension on his part.

They were silent after that, just glaring at each other. She turned away and looked outside again. _What a drag,_ she thought.

Then, more of a second thought, Betty asked herself the question Veronica had left them: _why do they hate each other?_

 _Because he’s Jughead Jones,_ she thought.

And then she asked it to herself again. More seriously this time.

Why _did_ she hate Jughead Jones?

She thought of the obvious reasons: He was messy. He wore a stupid gray hat every day. He raced her to the bathroom. He was pretentious.

He was messy. And so? Archie was messy. Messier, even. And he was her longest friend.

He wore a stupid gray hat every day. Did that equate to hatred? And she hated him longer than he wore that hat.

He raced her to the bathroom in the morning. But could she blame him? She took forever.

He was pretentious. But practically every teenager was pretentious.

She tried to think of more reasons. Older reasons. There must be more. There had to be the _roots._

He… What had he done at such a premature age that had caused so much hatred to boil every day?

He was the kid her mother had told her to hate. For as long as she could remember, he was scum Jones. From a rotten family from the South Side. She had been told to hate him. And so she had.

She had hated him before she knew him. She hated him her whole life without even knowing him. And now – the one moment he let his guard down… the moment she saw a part of him she never got to see… suddenly she was willing to change her mind? To reach out?

Could she really have hated him? For no good reason at all?

Disbelief clouded her. Was that really the reason she yelled at him every chance she got? Why she threw hurtful words at his face every day? Why she created a rift in their friend group? Could it have been so shallow? She looked at the boy she thought she hated again – broken eyes and all –and saw he was still looking at her. His expression was not hostile now. More confused. In some sort of strange awe. As if he had come to some sort of realization, too.

His gaze had softened. So had hers. There was no bitterness. No resentment. Just something different.

Jughead was the first one to speak.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. She felt something in her chest, something lift from her shoulders. She was pretty sure she had never seen him look at her like this – without the hostility that surrounded their previous interactions. But the clear memory of when he saw her in a puddle of tears at the library and the faint recall of the dance sprung up on her. When she vulnerable and completely being herself, it seemed, he had tolerated _her._

Suddenly, everything was different. Guilt – cold and hard – hit her the way snow had hit town. She was deeply remorseful, feeling the urge to make things right.

“I’m sorry, too,” Betty told him. “For everything. For being an asshole to you all my life. For all our fights, for being possessive of Archie, for being a bitch today. I had no reason to be. I _never_ had a reason to be.”

The words they uttered were completely foreign to her. When had she ever apologized to him? But they felt right. For the first time, she didn’t need to keep her guard up. She had no reason to. All she felt was guilt and the need to make things better.

He looked down, blinking slowly, before turning to her again. “I had a stupid reason for being an asshole,” he told her, looking embarrassed. “My parents’ stories and warnings. They were always talking about the ‘snobby Cooper family’,” he said, shaking his head. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“Well, they’re not wrong,” Betty said.

“No. They’re wrong,” he told her firmly. “My family was no better. You’re not snobby – ”

Betty raised her eyebrow.

“Okay, a _little_ snobby,” he corrected, a small smile on his lips, “but I’ve been snobbier. And the way I treated you is not your fault… And all the bull I said earlier…” his face grew serious. “About your mom – about your family… I was wrong. I was way, _way_ out of line. You were just trying to – and I said all that. I knew I was going to hit the lowest of lows, and I did it anyway. And I am so, so sorry. I don’t know jack about your family or anything about what really happened. Just because you seemingly had the perfect family – it doesn’t mean you did. It doesn’t mean I had it worse. I don’t know you – it never meant I had a right to say that.”

She shook her head, looking at her hands on her lap. “But you were right. My mom used to try. And I blamed her for why my family fell apart and it’s my fault. I pushed her – too hard and too far, I guess. And now she’s in California and not asking me to come home. Because of me.”

Why had she told him that? It was the first time Betty had told anyone that. She couldn’t tell Archie or Veronica. But she told Jughead anyway. And she did not regret it. She could not get over the fact that they were speaking as though they were normal people. As if the past years never happened.

“Hey. That’s not true.” Betty looked up to him, seeing he looked more concerned than ever. “That is _not_ your fault,” he continued, eyebrows furrowed, as if trying his best to make her see that it wasn’t her fault. “Believe me, it’s not. Parents aren’t supposed to give up on you. They’re supposed to make sure you never give up. They’re supposed to keep trying – no matter what. Even if it doesn’t work sometimes, they should keep trying. That’s what parents do.” The look he gave her was pained, eyes shiny as though he was holding back tears. And with his reindeer sweater, she wondered again why she ever could have hated him.

“Like with your dad…” Betty said, realizing it herself. “Because even if it wasn’t working out … he – ”

“He tried,” he finished. “He was clean for a bit, actually… I thought – obviously he needs professional help. I wish… I wish I could help him. Put him in rehab. But life’s too hard for that. And that’s… that’s probably the first time I told anyone that.”

Why they were telling each other these things, they did not know. But it didn’t matter.

“I’m sorry,” she told him. “I wish your home life – I wish it had been better.”

He looked at her in all ways too unfamiliar. A civility – no, a _warmth_ – that had barely ever been directed at her before.

“I wish yours had been better, too.”

Betty turned to the clock and saw it was midnight.

“And Merry Christmas, Jughead.”

He smiled at her. “Merry Christmas, Betty.”

They ordered hot cocoa and spent the next hour in comfortable silence. No bathroom breaks needed. It may not have been their holiday, but it was a day to be commemorated.

 

And it was on that Christmas, in the warmth of the diner, the Christmas décor above them, that for the first time in forever, Betty and Jughead had reached out to each other.

 

New traditions could weasel their way into her most-hated holiday, after all.

When a satisfied Veronica returned at 1:05am, she placed their phones on the table, beaming.

“Everybody say thank you, Veronica.”


	12. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica tries to get Betty and Jughead to become friends.

Veronica figured that in all the big changes in Betty’s and Jughead’s lives – one thing remained constant: each other. When their families fell apart and a swirl of new friends and new dreams and goals made their way into their lives, their supposed loathing for each other was always something to fall back on. In the good and the bad, they were always there for each other, with a snarky comment and another row in tow.

And now that had changed, too. In fact, not only were they civil – they made the extra effort to be as severely nice as they could get. They took turns on the bed, they took turns in the bathroom, they took turns with the TV, they offered the other food during meals, and – based on Betty’s peaceful words during their shopping – Jughead even stopped typing like a maniac at night. _It drove me crazy before,_ Betty had said. They’ve been thanking Veronica profusely ever since.

So call it guilt, call it an epiphany: but the current situation had made Veronica truly pleased with herself.

Not that Betty and Jughead have had another proper conversation, though. In that right, they were barely severe at all. They were walking on eggshells around each other.

Which wasn’t exactly ideal on Veronica’s mind. Because while it was better than them being at each other’s throats, Veronica – who was still on a ‘therapist’ high after her success on Christmas – was determined to get them to become _best friends._

One could say Veronica was a tad ambitious.

And that was exactly why, that on the 28th of December, upon Archie’s return from Chicago, Veronica decided to host a –

“ – movie night!” Veronica announced, taking a loud sip from her smoothie over breakfast. “It’s going to be you two, me, and Archie – given that Kevin’s not free and Cheryl and Toni are out of town.”

Betty nodded in agreement. “Cool,” she said, shooting a friendly smile in Jughead’s direction. It took Veronica getting used to – but while it was _friendly,_ it was hardly _comfortable._ The tension was too _nice._

He smiled back another friendly smile at Betty before turning to Veronica. “So, what’re the movies?” he asked.

There they went again with being _friendly._ But how about being _friends?_

“That’s where we all play a part. Since we’re all very different but somehow a _super_ tight group of _friends_ ,” Veronica started, giving them both a look, “I’d say we _embrace_ what could be a literal conflict of movie interests and have each of us pick a movie. How about that?”

“Sounds fun,” Betty said, eyes bright. But it wasn’t the excitement and glee Veronica had hoped for. It was still too friendly.

“I already have a film in mind: _Boyhood,”_ Jughead said, nodding with satisfaction.

“Interesting choice,” Betty related to him, sipping from her hot cocoa. Normally she would make a quip about him being an ultra-pretentious film snob because that movie was _not_ movie night material, so this was _way_ too friendly.

And Veronica couldn’t stand it.

Tonight, she was going to bring them closer than ever.

* * *

 

When the knock came on the door, Veronica practically pounced on her boyfriend before she even got to see his face. “I missed you so much!” she exclaimed, her embrace squeezing him.

“God, I missed you too,” Archie said through their hug. He kissed her, and Veronica felt fuzzy all over her body.

She hadn’t told Archie yet that Betty and Jughead were on good terms. She figured she wanted to see his reaction in the flesh. In _action._

They pulled away and she showed him she was wearing the necklace he got her for Christmas. “Thank you, Archie. I love it,” she told him.

He pointed at his feet, revealing the shoes she bought him. “I love them so much, Ronnie. I wore them all week,” he told her with the winning smile she was in love with. “How was Christmas? Betty and Jughead didn’t knock down the Christmas tree?” he asked, chuckling.

“Well…if you must know…” she started, just in time to see Jughead and Betty stepping out of the room, towels in their hands and talking civilly.

“You can go first,” Betty offered, pointing at the shower.

“You can,” Jughead said, giving her a smile.

“No, you can,” Betty told him.

“Please. I insist. I went first last night,” Jughead argued.

Betty thanked him and went inside. Jughead, not noticing that Archie had come back, went back inside the room. That was the closest they had gotten into an argument in days.

Veronica looked at Archie, whose jaw was dropped.

He looked to his girlfriend, aghast. “How much did you pay them?”

“Just Veronica Magic,” she replied, eyes glittering. “I may or may not have gotten them to have a civil conversation on Christmas Eve. They’ve been like this ever since.”

 _“Woah,_ Ronnie,” he told her, awestruck. “Like, _woah…_ I can’t believe you – okay, I’m gonna need the details. I mean… _how?_ I’ve been trying to get that for _years._ And you know, I was really worried about movie night when you said they were gonna be in it… but now… I’m worried _we’re_ gonna fight.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and lightly hit his chest. “Boo. Not funny.”

He hugged her to say sorry.

* * *

 

So Jughead had chosen _Boyhood,_ Archie had chosen _Rocky,_ Veronica _The Devil Wears Prada,_ and Betty said hers was a surprise.

Veronica made two giant bowls of popcorn – one for her and Archie and the other, for well, Betty and Jughead. Maybe a bowl of popcorn was what it took for them to ultimately click. They sat on the couch, with Betty and Veronica in the middle and the two guys at either side.

Jughead’s agonizing three-hour movie had gone first, and it was clear with the dull faces everyone else had on, that everyone hated it. Even Jughead, who tried to stay focused. Archie, who was beside Veronica, fell asleep on her shoulder. Betty dug through the popcorn, looking for the ones with more caramel. Jughead silently would mindlessly take handfuls of popcorn, not talking to Betty at all.

Veronica sighed, seeing that movie night so far was not going as she had hoped. She was hoping they’d be in a full-fledged intellectual movie snob discussion now, but they remained silent. Veronica grabbed her phone and began watching Queer Eye.

When the movie was over, Archie woke up and practically grabbed the remote, choosing his movie immediately. No one said a word about Jughead’s choice, because barely anyone had watched it enough to have anything to say besides _Glad it’s over._

“I’ll get a popcorn refill, ‘kay?” Jughead said to Betty, taking the bowl. Archie paused the movie.

Betty smiled at him. “Thanks.”

Veronica tried not to roll her eyes at how friendly they were. They weren’t acting like normal people.

“How long was I asleep, Ron?” Archie asked her.

“Two hours,” Veronica answered. “Thank god we started at 5pm.”

When Jughead returned, the movie continued. And while everyone was attentive this time, Betty and Jughead _still_ didn’t say a word to each other.

 _The Devil Wears Prada_ came next. One of Veronica’s absolute favorites. While Meryl Streep made her way into the building, Betty ended up sitting on the floor, leaning on the couch as support. It had gone worse. They weren’t even sitting beside each other now.

Veronica tried to focus, but she couldn’t help but feel she failed. Other than that, she was pleasantly surprised to find Jughead immersed in the movie. He began muttering _sad selfish jerkface_ every time Andy’s boyfriend appeared. At least there was something she could smile about. He cheered when they broke up and sighed when he appeared at the end again.

And then the movie ended. Veronica smiled at her boyfriend, who had learned to love her movies in the time they’d been together. He’d seen this movie many times already, given it was her favorite.

“Your movie up next, B,” Veronica said.

Betty grinned and took the remote before clicking on _Legally Blonde._

Her plan may have failed, but Veronica was glad this movie was there to cheer her up.

Archie sat up excitedly. This was one of his favorites. It got him emotional sometimes; there was something about the movie that tugged on his heartstrings. “Hell yeah,” he said, nodding.

Veronica raised her eyebrow at Jughead, who’s eyes were bright. He seemed to love the movie, too. He _memorized_ the interrogation of the pool boy, muttering it under his breath. Even the _You, bitch!_ line. Word for word.

Tonight was full of surprises. And when the movie was over, too, Veronica saw a tear come out of Archie’s eye. “She really made it,” he said. Veronica cuddled into him even more, her head falling on his chest. Wow, she loved him. And even if her plan didn’t work, she was glad she had Archie’s warmth to make her feel better.

“Let’s go to my room,” Veronica whispered against his chest.

“I’d like that,” he said, kissing the top of her head.

They stood up and said good night to Betty and Jughead. Jughead was finishing the popcorn while Betty scrolled through Instagram on her phone. Veronica sighed, wishing she could have done more but glad that things weren’t at their worst.

 

When she was in her bed, arms draped over Archie, she told him of her plan to have Betty and Jughead become best friends. Archie laughed. She looked up at his face and raised an eyebrow. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing,” he said, still smiling, eyes shining, staring at the ceiling. “I just can’t believe they’re civil, and you’re trying to make them _best friends._ If you told me a week ago that when I came back from Chicago, they’d be saying _thank you_ and sitting beside each other for hours, I’d think I was in another dimension. I mean, you’ve done so much already. They live with you, you’ve made them _normal._ It’s like… I don’t know, Ronnie. But you’re the best person I know. And you’re so good and kind and selfless, and you still wanna do more. It’s like, how did I get so lucky? How did any of us – your friends, anyone in this town – get so lucky that you moved from New York and landed to make our lives better?”

Her heart filled with the light and warmth she had found in Riverdale, her home. She wondered why he had said that. In her mind, _she_ was the lucky one.

And there was no other person besides Archie that she’d want to be with after having a Veronica Plan go south.

* * *

 

Little did Veronica know, her plan had _not_ gone south.

Betty had stood up and decided to make hot cocoa while Jughead ate the remaining popcorn. When he finished and went to place the bowl in the sink, she offered him a mug. “Care for some hot cocoa?”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure. Thanks,” he said, taking the mug. They both sat by the counter silently.

If Betty was being honest, it was awkward being nice to Jughead. She didn’t want them to have any potential fights, so they stayed clinically polite towards each other. It seemed he felt that way, too, because no one started talking.

Were they just going to be unbearably courteous the rest of their stay here? Because part of her – well, part of her was hoping they would be friends. It was an odd thing to realize, but when she thought about it, he seemed like just the kind of person she would _click_ with. The thought used to disgust her when Kevin mentioned it; though now it made sense. There was endless curiosity towards him on her end. He was reserved and quiet but also very, very interesting. Like what _did_ he type on his computer? He seemed intelligent and pensive and calming.

She decided to just go for it. Another nice and civil conversation wouldn’t hurt, right?

“So… I was hoping we could become friends,” she offered directly but shyly.

Jughead, who was just about to lift his mug off the counter, shot her eyes to her, surprised at what she said. “Oh?”

“I mean… I don’t know. You’re not so bad. And it’s frustrating having to be so brutally _nice,”_ Betty told him, chuckling.

“Brutally nice: that’s the way to put it,” he replied thoughtfully. “Honestly, yeah. I feel like a robot talking to you. I just – I don’t wanna fight, you know? Trying to make up for bitter times,” he said, smiling to himself.

“I get that. But I think we’re past fighting. That night at the diner… I don’t think I’ve ever been that honest and told anyone about my mom. And I didn’t really get why I told you – but it made me feel better. Or, not really _better._ Just open. And open, in a way, is better. Does that… does it make sense? Sorry. I don’t mean to ramble – I mean,” she paused to look at him, but he didn’t seem to mind her rambling. He only smiled, giving her a look to let her on. “I mean… we’re a clean slate. No expectations – or rather, _low_ expectations,” she said. “And you’re a pleasant surprise, so… I don’t know. And I know you don’t usually come up to someone and ask them to be friends. It should just… _happen._ But this is already as unusual as it is, and I want to put it out there that I want us to be friends… if that’s okay with you.”

He looked to her and smiled. “I’d like that.”

That wasn’t so bad.

“So… Cool movie you picked,” she said, taking a sip from her hot cocoa. God, was it going to be awkward?

He gave her a look. “Friends can be honest with each other, Betty.”

“Okay, fine. The movie you picked _sucked._ Sorry not sorry,” she said, with a playfully harsh tone.

“I should’ve realized that,” he said, sighing. “I could hear Veronica’s Queer Eye and Archie’s snore.” Betty laughed, the slight reminder that she was laughing with Jughead Jones of all people making her feel warm. “Great pick on your end, though. _Legally Blonde’s_ one of my favorites,” he added.

Her eyes lit up. “I _knew_ it was you quoting the courtroom scenes word-for-word!” she exclaimed.

“Okay, yeah. I know my Elle Woods. But it was Archie sobbing, okay?” he said defensively, hands raised. They laughed again.

“Who knew he was a chic-flick kind of guy?”

“ _Everyone’s_ a chic-flick guy,” Jughead said. “My sister and I watched them every day.”

Something about his expression changed at the mention of his sister. His eyes grew sad.

“I miss her,” he added. “A lot.”

Betty thought about her sister, too. Taller and comforting, mature and brave. Something in her chest fell. “I miss mine, too.”

“I remember her. Polly, right? What happened?” he asked. He seemed genuinely curious – not prying. She appreciated that.

“I saw her over a year ago. Christmas. She told us she was pregnant and I haven’t seen her since. I just – I was hoping to hear from her. But nada. I hope she’s okay. If she kept the baby – then well, I’m an aunt, I guess,” Betty explained. Something lifted in her chest again. She told him yet another thing.

“Oh. I’m sorry,” he said, eyes full of genuine concern.

“It’s fine… your sister, though. I don’t think I’ve ever met her but… wasn’t Archie terrified of her?” Betty said, eyebrows raised.

“Oh, yeah. She’s ferocious. He stepped on her doll once and he’s been afraid ever since,” Jughead said. They both laughed at the idea of Archie being scared of a much younger, feisty version of Jughead because of a doll. “She calls me sometimes. But I don’t think my mom knows. I don’t think she’s allowed to talk to me. And I wish I knew why.”

“That sucks. A lot,” Betty told him. “I’m sorry.” She could not even imagine to feel his pain – a mother who couldn’t even leave a call. But she knew his experience was different. He’d been experiencing it much longer than she had. What if all of this had happened to her at a much younger age? She’d be broken.

To have his mother leave with his younger sister. To leave him behind. She was amazed at Jughead’s strength. Her respect for him only grew more. And with that, a friendship she didn’t think in a million years would ever happen.


	13. All Things New on New Year’s

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead and Betty celebrate New Year's at Cheryl's.

If Christmas was Veronica’s, then New Year’s was Cheryl’s. Betty, Jughead, and Veronica were headed for the famous party Cheryl threw every year.

Betty hadn’t felt so light in weeks. Her newfound friend had made her, for the first time, feel understood. They talked all the time especially before going to sleep, sharing food and watching movies on Netflix together. They put in a lot of effort into their friendship – and in many ways, it was the highlight of her Christmas break.

Maybe the highlight of her year, even.

The plot twist, if you must.

“You never go to these things. Or even if you do, you’re probably not this excited,” Betty told Jughead in the ride to Thornhill. Betty wore her favorite pink sweater and a white skirt, feeling cute. She even curled her hair at the ends. Jughead was smiling, too. He wore red to look ‘festive’.

“I don’t know why, either. I haven’t gone out in forever,” Jughead told her, a light smile on his face. “I just miss the outside world I guess. And it’s nice to have a new friend.”

His words made her smile.

* * *

 

 _“Friends?!”_ Kevin, Cheryl, and Toni repeated, disbelieving. Veronica had told Betty and Jughead to keep it a surprise until that very moment.

“I don’t believe it. Just a few weeks ago he made you brush your teeth with _ketchup,”_ Cheryl said, eyebrows raised.

“Over it,” Betty said, waving it off.

Toni crossed her arms, turning to Jughead. “And wasn’t your hair red, Jughead?”

“ _Almost_ over that,” Jughead replied playfully, lightly nudging her side. Betty felt a little rush of something when he did that. The faint memory of his touch… she shook it off with a smile.

Kevin was still unconvinced. “You guys haven’t fought in a _week?_ And are _friends?!_ What kind of dimension did I wake up in – ”

“That’s what I said!” Archie interjected.

“Come on, guys. Don’t be so _shocked._ I just worked my magic,” Veronica said, utterly pleased with herself. Nobody would argue with Veronica Magic.

* * *

Betty knew Jughead avoided alcohol at all costs, so wanting to be considerate and wanting to talk to him, she didn’t plan to get any for herself. Jughead told her it was fine if she got herself a drink, but Betty told him she didn’t want to. (The last thing she needed, really, was to get drunk all over again). “You want me to get us sparkling cider?” Betty asked. They were sitting on the couch like antisocial butterflies, not talking to anyone else but each other. And yet, she was having a lot of fun. She was pretty sure he was, too.

“Oh. Sure. I can get us some instead, if you want,” he offered, already standing up.

Betty smiled as he left to get them drinks. She thought about how strange it was that they were friends – that thought came through her mind quite often. It was a gentle reminder that things could go right when one least expected it.

When he hadn’t returned in ten minutes, Betty decided to look for him. She made her way through the crowded hallways and saw an unfamiliar girl talking to him as he held a drink in each of his hands. She was a very pretty girl. Tall, blonde, striking.

The girl laughed at something he said, and Jughead smiled at her shyly. Did he like her? ~~And did she care?~~

The sight made her head grow hot. He just left her for some girl. She tried to ignore the gross feeling and decided to stomp away. She’d been spending the past few days with him, anyway. Time to catch up with other friends. _Older, truer friends,_ the afterthought came bitterly _._ Maybe she and Jughead had just been bored out of their minds over the Christmas break, and their friendship was much more shallow than she thought.

She tried finding the friends she figured she wanted to be with and found Archie setting up beer pong with other guys from the football team. “Hey, Betty,” Archie greeted, smiling. “You okay? You look… annoyed.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” she lied, even if she was clearly annoyed. “Can I watch you guys?”

“Watch me kick Jason Blossom’s ass at beer pong? Hell yeah,” Archie said.

When Betty saw Jughead coming her way, eyes scanning the area as if looking for something, she decided to leave again. “Never mind, Arch. See you during the countdown,” she told him. He looked disappointed but didn’t protest.

She then found Cheryl, who was telling somebody off for attempting to go up the stairs. “I don’t think so, Stripes. It clearly says UPSTAIRS IS OFF LIMITS,” Cheryl said, pointing at the sign that said just that. The boy in a striped shirt she was talking to probably belonged to the football team given his big build, and Cheryl, who was short and wore a party hat stared up to yell, but he cowered in fear at her words. “Now shoo and don’t you dare attempt that again,” she finished. “Oh, and have a happy new year,” she added sweetly.

When she saw Betty, she smiled. “Cousin! How are you liking the party?”

“It’s great,” Betty told her, trying to put a smile on in spite of the sour mood Jughead had left her in. “You really outdid yourself with the decorations. Everyone’s having fun.”

“Just as I’d hoped,” Cheryl said, pleased. “So, put this on. And give this one to Jughead,” Cheryl told her, handing her two golden party hats from the table. “Don’t be late for the countdown in the living room. Enjoy!” She left before Betty could say another word, probably to attend another issue at the party. A lot of the people in her life were Type As, (her mother, her sister, Veronica, Cheryl, Kevin, herself included), she realized.

 ~~Speaking of a type:~~ Jughead appeared from across the room. He seemed to be looking for someone, eyebrows furrowed and eyes scanning.

Betty turned around again and arrived in the kitchen, where Jughead had been earlier. There she found Toni and Veronica talking. She decided to stack one party hat over the other and put them over her head, before heading over to her other two friends.

“And Cheryl was _adamant_ on vlogging the whole thing. Which is cute, but like – we already took a bunch of photos. And we were just about to ski. In the _snow._ And she wanted to _vlog,”_ Toni related.

Veronica laughed. “My God. Where is this going?”

“And then while Cheryl was asking some lady about the steepness of the hill, this– oh, hey, Betty,” Toni said.

“Hi, guys. Sorry to interrupt,” she said.

“All cool. Join us! How’s the party going? Where’s Jughead?” Veronica asked her, enthusiastic especially with the Jughead question.

“Oh. You know… fine,” she answered, not wanting to talk about him. She turned to Toni, “Can I hear this skiing vlog story?” she asked.

“Yes! It’s the funniest thing. _So._ As I was saying, Cheryl asked this lady how steep the hill was, and then this kid – ”

Betty saw from the corner of her eye: Jughead. Who had just spotted her. “Betty!” he called out, raising two red cups in his hands. Why did he suddenly want to talk to her? Over the loud noise, she probably wouldn’t have heard him or seen him had she not paid attention, so Betty pretended not to have seen or heard him, instead gazing at the other room, where Kevin stood talking to a group of people.

“Oh sorry, Toni. Can you tell me about it later? Kevin’s calling me. Seems important,” Betty said, leaving the kitchen and heading for Kevin.

Just before she could speak to Kevin, though, she heard Jughead’s voice behind her.

“Betty?”

She turned around and saw Jughead, who looked frustrated and determined. He still held two cups in his hands. Sparkling cider. She looked at him, unsure of what to say now that she was annoyed.

“I was looking all over for you,” he told her, almost breathless. “You weren’t on the couch. Have you – were you trying to avoid me? Is that why you wanted to get sparkling cider? Because – well, if you didn’t wanna hang out with me tonight… that would’ve been fine. You probably think we talk too much or something. But like, yeah. Are you avoiding me?”

“What – of course not!” she exclaimed. “And _me_ avoiding _you?_ Okay, maybe. But you’ve been doing it first. You took so long getting cider, and when I saw you – you were talking to some _girl._ So I was like: I guess he doesn’t wanna talk to me. You could have just told me you didn’t want to talk to me tonight, by the way. So I left so you and blondie could get to know each other more,” she told him.

Did she sound jealous? _I’m not jealous,_ Betty thought. _Just angry he was talking to some other girl._

“What? That girl? She just talked to me,” he told her. “I got away from her as soon as possible. I didn’t – Betty, the only ‘blondie’ I want to get to know tonight is _you,”_ he said, blue eyes looking right into hers. His eyes widened a bit, realizing his words didn’t sound all too platonic. Then he quickly added, “You’re my friend. And I wasn’t gonna ditch you. I’m not gonna ditch you.”

Betty stopped frowning. She gave him a light smile. “Really?” she said.

“Yes, really,” he said, almost exasperated. “Now can you get your cider now, please? Carrying both of these around Cheryl’s mansion is tiring,” he told her sassily.

“Oh, sorry,” she said, her smile not leaving her face. She took one of the cups. She then removed one of the hats from her head and offered it to him. “Matchy?”

He gave the hats a weird look before taking them. “Okay fine. Matchy,” he relented, putting it on his head.

“Sorry for avoiding you. And for the misunderstanding,” Betty said, smiling.

“I’m sorry, too. I couldn’t find the sparkling cider anywhere,” he told her. “Not that popular a drink, but I was so sure Cheryl had it. Her pantry’s the size of my old house.”

Betty laughed at that. “So true. She had every flavor of Ben and Jerry’s in our last sleepover. She and Veronica could go on a pantry contest.”

It was his turn to laugh.

* * *

 

By 11:50, Betty and Jughead were as drunk on sparkling cider as anyone drinking a non-alcoholic beverage could be. It was more of a sugar rush.

They were in Cheryl’s pantry, counting the food she had. Jughead carried a notebook with him at all times – which came convenient as they were now tallying.

“Thirty-seven, thrity-eight…” Betty counted. Jughead added it to the tally. They both took what they were doing very seriously, having plans to count Veronica’s pantry, too, when they arrived home. “My God. And we’re still counting cookies? She has FORTY brands of chocolate-chip cookies?!” Betty said.

“Woah. Woah,” Jughead said, nodding and tallying 40 on the cookies section of their list.

“Next up… salsa dips?” Betty suggested.

“Oh yeah. Do we do that by flavor or by brand?” he asked.

Someone pounded on the door. “Betty? Jughead? Someone said you both came in here laughing like little girls,” Cheryl’s voice suddenly was heard.

The pantry door opened, revealing Cheryl.

“Are you guys hooking up in here or what?” Cheryl said, eyes widened.

Jughead dropped his notebook as Betty dropped many packets of Chips Ahoy. “NO!” they both shouted, horrified and defensive.

“What were you doing in here then – ? You know what? Whatever. No judgments. Take what you want. The countdown’s gonna start. Everyone in the living room in five minutes!” she announced, shutting the door behind her.

Jughead picked up his notebook and helped Betty with the cookies. They were both dizzy and lightheaded, having took the whole bottle of sparkling cider and bringing it along with them. It was a strange night, but they were happy with themselves.

They headed to the living room, as per Cheryl’s orders, almost in a haze and giggling uncontrollably. Betty managed a burp on the way.

“You two look like you had fun,” Veronica said when she saw them, smiling. Cheryl’s giant TV showed everyone at Times Square, watching the countdown. Three minutes.

“Totally,” Betty said, nodding.

“How many cookies do you have, Veronica?” Jughead said, head tilting?

“Um – I don’t know,” Veronica replied, confused, turning back to the TV.

Archie arrived soon enough and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend from behind. “Pucker up, Ronnie,” he said, giggling and planting a kiss on her cheek. He was pretty wasted and excited for his New Year’s kiss.

“Get a mint, Archie. You smell like beer,” Veronica ordered him. But she was smiling. He pulled away and grabbed a mint from his pocket.

Two and a half minutes.

Cheryl and Toni joined them. “Relax, Cheryl. Everyone’s here,” Toni said, holding her girlfriend’s hand to comfort Cheryl, who wanted everything to be picture perfect.

Archie rested his head on Veronica’s shoulder. “Thank you for making my year a gazillion times better,” he told her, smiling.

“I love you, Archiekins,” Veronica replied.

Two minutes. Betty realized almost everyone around them was coupling up and getting ready for kissing. She turned to Jughead, who was pouring the last of the sparkling cider into two cups. He handed one to her.

Betty smiled at him.

“This year was pretty wild, huh?” he said, looking to the floor.

“If someone told me at the start of the year, that by the end of it, I’d be standing next to Jughead Jones as his _friend,_ I’d probably punch that someone in the face,” Betty said. He smiled at that. She realized she liked making him smile. It suited his face. His smile made her smile, too.

One minute and a half to go.

“Totally,” he said. After a bit, he talked again. “I wish you have a great year ahead of you, Betty.”

“I wish you do, too.”

One minute to go.

When Kevin arrived, having found someone to kiss, Archie pulled their entire group into a drunken hug – Kevin’s friend included. “I love you guys,” Archie slurred. Betty and Jughead’s arms were wrapped around each other, and something flickered in her chest. He was warm and she didn’t want to let go.

“Love you too, Archie. But the countdown’s gonna start! Pull away!” Cheryl said, breaking the hug ~~much to Betty’s disappointment.~~

Thirty seconds.

“Thank you, again, Veronica, for Christmas,” Jughead said to her. “And for the home.”

“What he said,” Betty said.

Veronica pulled them both into another hug. “Love you guys!”

Ten seconds.

Betty and Jughead looked at each other as they all chanted the final seconds. “TEN! NINE! EIGHT! SEVEN! SIX! FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO!”

“Happy New Year!” Betty said to him, just as the couples around them pulled each other into a kiss. It was highly awkward and Betty was hyper aware that their friends all had kisses.

She clinked her cup of cider with Jughead’s (which, in some way, was their kiss). Jughead looked at her brightly. When had he ever been this happy? Looking at her, no less? And then Betty could’ve sworn she saw his eyes glance at her mouth maybe a little too long. But she was probably just imagining it.

The idea of kissing him briefly entered her mind. An almost too-familiar memory of his hands in her hair, their bodies closer than ever before, made her way into her line of thinking. And what she was terrifyingly sure she wasn’t imagining was ~~the way her heart skipped a beat at the thought.~~


	14. Guard: Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of Betty and Jughead's friendship! (And their defensive nature towards anyone who even considers the idea of them being anything other than friends).

In many ways, the new year had brought Betty into an unprecedented high. She was hopeful for a lot of things. The return of her writing for The Blue and Gold, planning prom… not to mention, her highly unexpected friendship with Jughead.

And then there was the change she was looking forward to the most: reconnecting with her mother.

Betty wasn’t sure why she was suddenly so enthusiastic about it. But she was all chipper telling Jughead on the first day back at school.

“I’ve just been… so happy lately. I don’t think it would hurt to – well, try,” Betty said as they walked the halls. “I don’t think things can get any worse than they are now, anyway. I think the worst is far behind me and the only way is _up.”_ Betty swooped her arm up for emphasis.

“So… you’re going to talk to her?” he asked.

“Yeah. Today. I know it’s sudden. And I’m really nervous but – I have a good feeling about it,” she said. “By the way, is it me or do people keep looking at us?” she wondered. Of course people were looking at them. _How were their heads still intact?_

Jughead didn’t respond to the last part. His face grew serious. “Betty – you talking to your mom… I mean, do you want me to come with you? In case… because anything can happen. And I’m glad you’re happy, but you might be seeing this a little too – ”

“So the rumors are true,” a voice interrupted from behind them. Betty and Jughead turned around and saw Reggie Mantle, nodding with a smirk dancing on his face. He had been out of town over the break – a fact Betty knew because of his endless posts on Instagram. “You two are boning.”

Betty and Jughead stepped away from each other instantly, not realizing they were standing so close. “WHAT?! NO!” Jughead exclaimed.

“Who said that?!” Betty asked.

Reggie looked at them, skeptical. “Bunch of people. Word has it that our resident rivals were laughing like maniacs before entering a closet – or a pantry, not sure what. But hey, there’s no shame in that. Drunk or not, hate sex sounds _hot._ Is it as hot as it sounds? Because I need me an enemy, ASAP,” Reggie told them.

“We’re not having sex,” Jughead said, just as Betty said, “We don’t hate each other.”

Why was that her initial response? Why was that his? She had no idea why what Jughead said stung a little. She decided to ignore it.

“Really? Because the heat’s rubbing off on me, you know? And it’s January,” Reggie said, nodding even more slowly and closing his eyes, making a gross face of arousal. “And trapped in Veronica’s bedroom together? Sleeping in the same bed – ”

“We don’t sleep in the same bed!” Betty cut him off.

“Whatever, same thing,” he said. “Same quarters, you two don’t just want to – ”

Jughead swallowed hard just as Betty’s cheeks began to burn.

“We’re FRIENDS,” Betty interrupted, her voice cracking at the end, making her sound a lot less convincing.

“Yeah. _Friends,”_ Jughead supplemented pathetically.

“That’s even harder to believe,” Reggie said.

“Not true, Mantle. You’re gross,” she snapped at him, grabbing Jughead’s elbow and pulling him away from the conversation. “Come on, Jughead.”

When they were away from him, Betty spoke again. “What a sleaze, am I right? What kind of stupid rumors?” she said, laughing as lightly as she could.

“Yeah. It’s like – _us?_ Hooking up? _Blech,”_ he said. He pretended to vomit for emphasis.

She made vomiting movements and sounds too. “Yeah, _blech.”_

“What a bad rumor.”

“People are so quick to judge. Just appreciate the friendship, am I right?”

“So right,” Jughead said.

When they entered The Blue and Gold office, Kevin greeted them. “So not used to you two being inseparable.” He was sitting down and typing on a computer.

“Inseparable? I wouldn’t say inseparable,” Betty said defensively, stepping even farther away from Jughead.

“Yeah. Inseparable’s a strong word, Kevin,” Jughead added, protective.

“You sure? Veronica told me that you two have been talking _aaaaall_ break. And first day back, you two are _still_ talking?” Kevin said. “And as your friend who’s aware of each of your expiration dates when it comes to human interaction, I know you two can’t stand talking to another person for more than five minutes. So with you two hanging out all break… ‘inseparable’s’ not that far a concept.”

Betty knew it was true, but she figured it didn’t make him _right._ “Well, we’re not inseperable. Right, Jughead? You were just leaving,” she said, waving Jughead away.

He seemed surprised by her sudden words. “Oh. But I thought we could talk about your mom because -”

“Like, now. Bye!” she said, lightly pushing him.

He looked at her, concerned for her disregard for their serious talk about her mother and disappointed she was telling him to leave. “Oh. See you,” he said, and walked out the door.

Kevin frowned at Betty when she turned around. “That was harsh.”

“We’re separable,” Betty told him, crossing her arms over her chest and sitting next to him.

“Defensive,” Kevin commented, returning his gaze to the computer screen. “You seem tense.”

“Who could blame me? Did you hear the rumor?”

“A little more specific…?”

“Reggie Mantle heard a rumor that Jughead and I are hooking up because they saw us enter Cheryl’s pantry during the New Year party,” Betty explained.

Kevin’s attention shot back to her, eyes big. “DID YOU SAY: PANTRY?”

“Yes. Why are you looking at me like that?!”

“Well - _are_ you?!”

“Are we _what?!”_

“Hooking up!”

Betty gasped. “What!? NO!”

“Then why were you in there?! What did you expect people to think?!”

“I didn’t expect people to think anything. Why were they looking at us?” she asked, face sour.

“Betty and Jughead TALKING like NORMAL PEOPLE for the first time EVER?! Of course people were gonna look,” Kevin told her.

“I didn’t realize people were oh-so invested,” she said, sarcastic.

“You kidding? You guys are a thrilling saga. You fight in the hallways at least once a week. It’s like a TV show everyone tunes into,” Kevin said. Betty was surprised. Since when did people _care?_ And how had she not noticed? She stared at him blankly, trying to process that they had an audience that was invested in their fights. How odd.

“So what were you doing in that pantry, if not hooking up?” Kevin asked.

“We were counting Cheryl’s food.”

He made a confused face. “Explain.”

“To see who had more: her or Veronica,” Betty told him.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Well, that excuse is way too random to be fake…” he said thoughtfully.

“Also more realistic than us _hooking up!”_ Betty said.

“Not really. Hate sex is a thing,” Kevin explained, taking his mug of coffee and sipping from it.

“Why do people keep saying _hate sex?”_

“Tension doesn’t disappear overnight, Betty. It has to go somewhere.” He then winked at her.

Betty made a face of disgust. “Gross!”

“Okay, okay, I believe you,” he said, arms raised in surrender. “So who had more food?” Kevin asked, smiling hopefully.

She frowned. “Dunno. We only counted a few before we had to go to the countdown. Not to mention, she has a freezer room where she keeps ice cream.”

“Wow. Rich people.”

* * *

 

Betty arrived at the corner of the street where the Riverdale Register did all its work; where her mom definitely was at the moment, probably working on a story she had found from her trip to California.

It took her a lot of courage, but she had found some sort of newfound strength in the time she had spent apart from her. And something in her gut was telling her that this would be different. Better.

If only she could trust her gut.

Betty opened the door, making the bell above the doorway chime. Other reporters turned to look at her, seeming to recognize that she was Alice Smith’s daughter. Betty approached one of them. “Hi. Is my mom around?” she asked.

The lady she asked nodded. “In her office. You’re her daughter Betty?”

Betty smiled. “Yeah.”

The lady gave a look to her seatmate, who looked freaked out. Why was everything so tense?

Still, Betty remained determined. She walked to her mom’s office, and she felt the sudden need to fix her hair and to get better clothes. She needed to make a good impression, even if this was her mom.

She wanted to make things right.

She knocked on the door and then she heard her mother’s voice. “Come in!”

Betty exhaled slowly before turning on the knob, and she was to face with her mother who sat on her desk, typing something on her computer. Betty briefly thought she was looking in the mirror: her mother’s blonde hair, preppy apparel, focused on publishing something for her paper.

Her mother’s expression changed from professional to… something indiscernible. Or perhaps it was discernable, and Betty was just being hopeful for what wasn’t there at all.

She stood up. “Who let you in here?” She said it so harshly, as if she was an enemy, not her own daughter.

Betty was surprised. She also did not expect it to feel like a punch in the gut. “Mom – ”

Alice Smith sat back down and proceeded to ignore Betty as she continued to do her work. Betty, who looked at her mother pleadingly, eyes red and ready to pour, unsure of how things could have gotten so wrong so fast.

* * *

 

Betty did not remember what happened next. She did not remember walking all the way back to The Pembrooke in the snow. The next thing she knew, she was closing the door behind her. Silent tears fell from her face.

Jughead immediately upon seeing her placed his computer on the coffee table and ran to her, holding her shoulders. “Betty,” he said, eyes full of concern. It was highly reminiscent of the day outside the library. Except this time was different.

This time, she was not going to shut him away.

She did not reply, feeling that if she did, she’d croak all the words out and cry her heart out. Because how could she have been so stupid to think things were being okay? And Jughead had tried to warn her earlier – but her head was in the clouds. Being in the clouds was all fun until you fell. So instead of talking, instead of saying anything, she hugged him. For the first time, their first hug: familiar and foreign at once.

She instantly felt his arms wrap around her, and feeling his chest rise and fall against hers was incredibly calming as she began to truly cry the ugly kind, where noses get runny and cow noises are made. And yet, Betty did not feel embarrassed. She was sorry for his shirt, sure. But the way he held her, firm and sure, made her realize she had no reason to be afraid to be vulnerable around him. He was there for her.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked, his head resting on the top of hers.

Against his chest, she shook her head slowly. It was strange that it didn’t feel strange to be in his embrace, to be so close to him.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Do you wanna sit down?”

She finally pulled away, eyes swollen and red as she looked at him. “Yeah,” she finally said. They sat down on the couch with her beside him. When he didn’t do anything, she gave him a look. “Get back to what you were doing…” she told him slowly, feeling as if she was any louder her voice would break.

“Um – we can talk. Or we can watch a movie,” he offered gently.

“No, you were doing something. Just… get back to it,” she managed to say, not wanting to get in the way of his routine.

“I – are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” he said. “Well, if you want to talk or – do anything, just let me know, okay?” he said, voice tender. He picked up his computer and slowly got back in the zone.

Betty’s thoughts filled with her mother. Everything after she had spoken came by in a blur – how she was ignored, how Betty stormed out with all the reporters watching her, whispering. How it was so utterly humiliating and heartbreaking. She was so angry and sad and full of despair. But now she was calming down, slowly realizing that it _had_ happened and there was simply nothing she could do about it, all while grateful she had Jughead, who calmed her – and in all ways, that was better than nothing.

She didn’t realize it, but she was staring into his computer. He noticed, turning to look at her, looking confused.

Betty’s eyes widened “Oh – sorry, I wasn’t – ”

“No,” he said, “it’s actually – I’d usually be uncomfortable. I’m just… confused that I’m not. You can watch, if you want…”

She smiled. “Really?”

He nodded and smiled back. “Yeah.”

As he typed, Betty read. She didn’t understand the plot given that he was in Chapter 14, but his words were strung together in a creative, immersive way that her reporter writing could never really do. What she usually wrote was cut and dry and straight to the chase – but his writing made her feel something, especially with the plot surrounding a town very much like their own.

Betty turned away from the screen and to his face. His deep focus – eyebrows furrowed, lips silently reading the words he wrote. He always looked like that. she was so used to seeing him like that. And for the longest time, she had hated it.

But now… now it was something else. She was utterly fascinated. Entranced. How could she ever have hated him?

It made her forget everything altogether.

She didn’t realize she was leaning closer. Their shoulders brushed, and that was when Jughead turned to her, finally noticing her eyes boring into his features.

Had his eyes ever been this blue before?

He began to lean in, too, until their faces were barely inches away from each other.

She closed her eyes.

Lungs breathing fast. Heart pounding fast. Temperature rising fast. Keys jingling outside.

Keys jingling outside?

Archie and Veronica’s voices were heard, snapping them out of their trance. They immediately looked to their laps, and then they were suddenly sitting a whole foot away from each other.

And then it was as if it never happened.


	15. I'll Be There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead's not alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never ever been so unhappy with a chapter? Anyway here goes

“You know what’s weird?” Jughead told Betty on one of their daily walks to school. “That I don’t have your number. Like, I’ve known you all my life and I don’t have your number.”

It was weird that now they were close still have never texted. “Well, to be fair, we had no reason to text each other. We either hated each other or lived together,” Betty replied.

“Or both,” he said with a chuckle.

He then stopped walking, confusing her. She stopped too and turned to look at him. “Why’d you stop?” she asked.

He smiled an endearing smile and reached into the pocket of his coat before handing her his phone. “To make it official?” he offered. He looked so endearing, she couldn’t help but smile back.

Betty took her phone from her coat and gave it to him. She then put in her number and saved it as _Your Worst Enemy :)._ When she got her phone back, she saw he had saved his number as _Roomie._

Things were going great.

Or so they thought.

* * *

 

During English class – Betty and Jughead’s one shared class – Principal Weatherbee came into the room. “I need to excuse Mr. Jones,” he announced quickly and grimly.

Betty turned around and shot her eyes at Jughead, who was surprised. Principal Weatherbee looked serious like always, but there was something… sad and urgent about the way he was talking.

Jughead stood up and was about to head over to Weatherbee when he spoke again. “Take your things with you, Jughead.”

Jughead now was nervous. If he had to take his things, it meant there was no intention of him going back to class.

Which meant he was probably headed somewhere.

Betty had the gut feeling it was about his dad as he was Jughead’s only family living around Riverdale. If something happened…

Jughead turned around to look at Betty as he left the room, and Betty shot him a small smile, hoping everything was going to be okay, even if things clearly weren’t. He smiled back, and Principal Weatherbee began to talk to him in the hallway. She decided that there was no way she was going to stay in class for the rest of the period.

Fifteen minutes after he left – when it wouldn’t be obvious she was going to follow him – she raised her hand, took her wallet, and asked to use the restroom.

She texted Jughead – Roomie – grateful that they had exchanged numbers that morning. **Is everything okay?**

Then her phone began to ring. She picked up. “Hello? Jughead?”

“Betty,” he said, voice shrill and breathing heavy. “I just arrived at the hospital. My dad he – he got into an accident earlier this morning. He’s in the ICU now, but… I don’t know what’s gonna happen. So can you… if it’s okay, can you come later? After school?”

Her heart fell for him and she picked up her walking pace. “Oh my god. I’m coming _now._ ” She began to run through the empty hallways, heading outside. There was no way she was going to leave him at the hospital the whole day.

“Betty, you have a chemistry test – ”

“What? Who cares about that?” The chemistry test she was studying for like a maniac the past few days was suddenly nothing. She had to be there for Jughead. “I’ll be there, Jughead. Okay? I’ll be there. I’m gonna get a taxi.”

“Don’t skip class – ”

“I’m already on my way,” she interrupted.

His breathing was so heavy. “Please don’t skip class,” he told her desperately, “Ms. Pearson’s not very forgiving. What if she doesn’t hold a make-up test?”

She realized what he was doing. He was trying not to be worried – or rather, to project how worried he was on something miniscule, like Ms. Pearson’s chemistry test, instead of the big thing that had just happened to his dad.

“Do you want to keep talking?” she asked him, deciding that if he wanted to distract himself, she was going to help.

He didn’t speak for a bit, and then he finally did. “Uh – yes. Talk. Okay,” he said shakily.

Betty walked out the building and into the streets, waiting for a ride to come by. “What do you want to talk about?”

He swallowed. “Anything.”

She thought of anything. What could she talk about? “Um – okay. Jughead, do you remember when Veronica first moved here and Archie started acting like a total weirdo?” she told him, trying to make her voice bright and calming. “He called BOTH OF US to Pops and instead of talking about Veronica we ended up fighting over something stupid. I can’t remember what it was about now. But it was probably stupid.” A taxi passed by and she hopped in. “Riverdale General Hospital,” she told the driver.

It was a good thing the hospital was a few minutes away. She needed to be there for him. She had to.

“I remember,” he responded. “I mean, I don’t remember the fight. But I remember Archie was so frustrated,” Jughead said, his voice calming down a little.

Betty laughed. “And then Veronica entered. SHE talked to ARCHIE and not vice versa,” she said. “We were so shocked. Archie was freaking out. Then she joined us and it was as if we didn’t exist. And it was just both of us quietly eating and glaring at each other for what seemed to be forever.”

“That was two years ago. That’s crazy. Now we’re living in Veronica’s house.” Could she hear a smile with how he spoke?

“So crazy. Remember when I just moved in and we fought because you opened the door on me?” Betty told him, smiling at the memory. “And also… when you made me brush my teeth with ketchup a few weeks ago because I turned your hair red. That was crazy.” She heard Jughead laugh on the other end. “There was also that time we wound up at The Bijou watching the same double-feature and I honest-to-god hated that movie for a while because it reminded me of you. But now when I think about it, it just makes me smile. Because I can’t believe we’re friends. And that’s great.”

“It is.”

“I also remember that night at the dance when you watched over me. I know it’s a weird thing to recall – but did you put my shoes on me? I don’t even remember what happened but I knew you were looking out for me – I just did. Until now, I still can’t believe you did that for me. It’s like we forgot who we were for a minute,” Betty continued.

“I think it was a premonition of what we were supposed to be,” he told her. “Friends.”

Betty smiled.

“And yeah, I did put your shoes on.”

Her heart warmed. She arrived at the hospital. She paid the driver and continued talking. “And then – there was that time where we had a parley as kids where we set up ‘territories’. Archie was our mediator and you were convinced I paid him off because he let me have Picken’s Park. I did _not_ pay him off, by the way.”

“Psh. I’m still convinced you did.”

“Nope. Archie just had a crush on me back then,” she said. Jughead laughed. It was true. Archie was girl crazy even as a kid and Betty was the closest girl in his life for a while. “Picken’s Park is boring now. I can’t believe I traded the movie theater for that place.”

“Sucks to be you,” he replied teasingly.

Betty was inside the hospital lobby when she saw Jughead standing in the hallway, smiling as he listened to her talk. “And then there was that time – this morning – when we exchanged numbers. And I’m glad that happened.”

Her voice echoed in the lobby and he looked up to see coming towards him. He looked stressed and fearful, eyes big and worried and not even wearing his beanie, but ultimately relieved to see her. “Betty,” he said. As she practically ran to him, she ended the call before pulling him into a hug. “You’re here,” he whispered to her.

“How are you? Is he okay?” she asked him, not letting go.

“I don’t know yet,” he answered, voice brittle.

“I’m here, okay? I’m here,” she told him.

“Thank you for being here,” he told her.

“Of course, Jughead. Of course.”

He pulled away and looked at her. “How about the chemistry test?” he asked, rubbing his hands together nervously.

She ignored what he said. “Do you want to talk? To sit?” she asked him. She briefly recalled what had happened last week – when he had hugged her too and asked her if she wanted to talk, to sit.

“Okay,” he said. They sat down beside each other and she placed a hand over his. “But you skipped school. That’s gonna look bad,” he suddenly said. She realized his giant worry about school was him trying to calm himself down.

“Nobody cares. And I’ve skipped school before, nothing happened,” she said. It was true. To spite her mother and get attention, she had skipped classes in the –

“Eighth grade,” he told her. How strange of him to remember. “You always skipped English. Only came in during tests.” It was even stranger that he knew that.

She raised an eyebrow. “How do you know? How do you _remember?!_ ”

He shrugged. “Just – observant, I guess.”

Before she could reply, a doctor came up to them. “Mr. Jones? Can we talk?”

Jughead looked at him, tense, and stood up. Betty rubbed his arm reassuringly before Jughead and the doctor began to talk privately. Betty then texted Veronica: **At RGH with Jughead. His dad got into an accident.**

She was sure she was going to reply instantly at Veronica was having Bio, which was her most-hated subject. And reply instantly Veronica did: **OMG. I’ll call Archie, Kev, T &C. Be there soon. **

Jughead sat back down and smiled at her. “He’s gonna be okay. I’ll get to see him soon. I didn’t really listen to what he was saying. I just heard that he was gonna be okay,” he said, holding her hand and interlocking their fingers. She figured him holding on to her was involuntary and not something she had to look into, even though they had never done that before.

“That’s good,” she told him. “That’s good.” She was so relieved to hear that. She couldn’t imagine… if something had happened to FP –

His face fell. “I just – I can’t believe he was driving drunk. He put other people in danger, Betty. He never drove drunk before,” he told her, closing his eyes. “I can’t believe he’d do that.”

She squeezed his hand, unsure of what to say. That was horrible. “At least nobody else was hurt,” she told him. “And he’s going to be okay.”

Seeing the hurt in his eyes crushed her. Nobody deserved this. Especially not Jughead – who had been through enough.

“Your mom was here earlier,” he told her.” She was trying to talk to me with a recorder. Trying to get a comment about how the South Side has a drinking problem or whatever.”

“Oh my God.”

“I mean, she left right away…” he said, trying to make her feel better at the look on her face.

Betty sighed, feeling a rage in her chest. “What the hell? How could she be so insensitive?” she fumed, shaking her head. “I’m sorry she did that,” she said sincerely. “That she did that to you. She’s so wrong and out of line. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” he told her, shaking his head. “I just – I thought she was here because she cared. Because, well… did you know that our parents used to…”

Her eyes widened as she nodded. “Oh yeah,” she said, not wanting him to finish. The idea of it made her want to vomit – Betty and Jughead’s parents dated in high school and had a rough breakup – which Betty used against her mom often to get her even angrier when they’d fight. It was undoubtedly the reason they had passed on the animosity to their kids – an animosity that ended seventeen years in the making, because they were here now at the hospital, holding hands and friends, Betty there for him at his worst.

“Thank you for being here,” he told her again. He looked to their joined hands and instead of realizing he had taken her hand, his other hand reached for her free hand, so both his hands were holding hers, and Betty realized it was voluntary after all.

* * *

 

The rest of the group arrived thirty minutes later with food and hugs. And when Jughead left as he was allowed to visit his dad, Veronica sat down beside Betty.

“I knew Jughead’s living situation was bad. But this – this is horrible,” Veronica said, sighing.

She nodded. “Do you think… he can pay for all of this?” Betty wondered. She wasn’t sure what the extent of the injuries FP Jones sustained were, but she didn’t think any sort of medical procedure was anything the Joneses could afford. That worried her. She knew Jughead had a bank account that had barely anything in it. Maybe if she got some of her savings…

“I hadn’t thought about that,” Veronica said thoughtfully. She then stood up without another word and took out her phone. She was definitely up to something.

Archie was next to sit next to Betty. “God. I can’t believe I never knew… Did you know FP had a drinking problem?” Archie asked her.

“I found out on Christmas Eve,” Betty explained. She couldn’t believe he hadn’t told anyone. How could he hold it in so long? It must’ve been difficult seeing all his friends have normal living situations and make fake IDs for Friday-night drinking while he was secretive of what substance abuse had done to his father. Was he ashamed? Betty thought he had no reason to be.

“Oh. I just thought that maybe his mom left because of money or something. Not this,” Archie said, sighing. “I wish I’d known. Maybe could’ve done something about it. He dealt with all of this alone.”

Jughead returned soon enough and Veronica practically ambushed him. Betty didn’t know what they were talking about, but it seemed serious.

“What’re they saying?” she asked.

Archie shrugged. “I don’t know. But knowing Ronnie – ”

“ – she’s up to something,” Betty finished.

“… upstate and it’s one of the best private…” Betty heard Veronica say. Jughead looked thoughtful, confused, anxious, and relieved all at once.

“I think they’re talking about rehab?” Archie offered.

“… I don’t know what to say, but…” Jughead said.

“… don’t worry about it, okay?” Veronica replied. “You can consider it. But know that…”

After a few more minutes, their conversation ended. Jughead sat down beside Betty and Veronica sat down beside Archie.

“Veronica’s a philanthropist and she’s only 17,” Jughead said, chuckling lightly.

Betty rested her head on his shoulder. “What did you two talk about?”

“She offered to pay for everything and to send my dad to this private rehab facility upstate. I didn’t know what to say,” he told her. Yup. Sounded like Veronica.

“Will you accept the offer?”

“Living with her’s one big thing already; but paying off whatever debt’s coming our way and her family paying for my dad’s rehab is a whole other. It’s too much. It’d be weird to just… let her take care of it, right? This is my problem, not hers,” he said. It occurred to her again that he was a literal teenager and talking about not having a place to live, paying off debt, and putting a parent in rehab. “But at the same time, I have no idea what to do. Is it my decision to make? Or my dad’s? What do you think?”

Betty didn’t know what to say. This was uncharted territory. When helping and receiving help… what _were_ the limits? What was okay and what wasn’t? But weren’t those rules stupid, anyway? Shouldn’t people be allowed to help and receive help without any sort of shame or unspoken rules stopping them? Jughead was only a kid. To accept that kind of help would make his life much better and save him all the baggage that was bound to come his way. And if he didn’t… would everyone just have to watch him go through it all? Would it ruin his life?

Betty realized he _had_ to take the offer. But she didn’t think she had a place to say anything.

“I… don’t know,” she told him. He didn’t seem to mind her answer.

They stayed quiet for a while before she spoke again. “How’s your dad?”

“He’s…” Jughead paused, looking at his lap. “I didn’t know what to say to him. I’m glad he’s alive and okay,” he told her.

“But…?”

“But also… really, really mad, you know? I don’t know if I should call my mom, or worry about something… It’s weird. I should be relieved and grateful but – it’s stupid,” he said, and she could see in his face that he was trying so hard to hold back a flood of tears.

She shook her head and looked at him and right at him, her hands holding his shoulders. “That’s valid. Completely. You have every right to feel that way,” she said firmly. “And you don’t have to have all the answers or explanations now, okay? Just let yourself feel what you’re feeling. No one deserves to go through this. _Ever._ So don’t discount how you’re reacting. You’re allowed to cry. You’re allowed to be angry. You’re allowed to feel everything you’re feeling. And I’m here for you. We all are.”

He looked at her, blue eyes broken and desperate, taking in her words. “I just… I don’t know what to do,” he broke out, voice desperate and tired. “I just feel like… like crying. In public.”

“Then cry in public,” she whispered to him. “It’s okay.”

He was looking at her when a tear fell from his eye. As far as anyone knew, Jughead never cried. Ever. Betty pulled him into a hug, holding him tight to reassure him that everything was okay. That she was there for him. That he wasn’t alone. That he could cry.

And for the first time, he was crying with someone. For the first time, he wasn’t alone. Jughead’s silent tears fell against her shoulder, and he held her the way he never did anyone before.

She hated how full of despair he sounded. She hated that this was happening to him. She hated that his life was unfair and he felt the need to hold back, to do more, to not ask for help. Betty wanted nothing more than to get back at the universe for making him hurt. She prayed to whatever force she believed in – in the hopes of making everything in Jughead Jones’s life better.


	16. Out of Sight, Out of Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty needs to get away from Jughead.

Betty realized she liked Jughead in the most mundane way.

It had been three weeks since FP Jones’s accident and things seemed to have figured themselves out. Jughead and Veronica had come up with some sort of arrangement were Veronica’s parents took responsibility for things Jughead’s absent parents should have been taking responsibility for. FP was in a rehabilitation facility upstate, with zero medical debt. The Jones men were eternally grateful.

So things had fallen back to normal (or as normal as they could be). While she did homework one ordinary Sunday night, Jughead typed on his computer like he always did, with both of them seated on the couch.

Betty, randomly and absentmindedly, turned his way, and suddenly everything was different. It was as if every sense in her awakened and everything about him was different. The curve of his jaw, the blueness of his eyes, his face of deep focus. His furrowed brows, his typing fingers, his gentle breathing. His mumbles under his breath, his scanning gaze, his thinking expression. She had this unmistakable feeling of wanting him.

It hit her like a bus: sudden, crushing, hard. And that was it. That was all it took. She realized he wasn’t different at all. He always looked like that. It was her that was different.

She liked Jughead. In the romantic sense.

Her stomach did a backflip and suddenly her heart wasn’t beating fast enough. She thought of many things in a fast montage of every memory they had thus far: of how she liked being around him, how she felt at peace with him, how she could talk to him for hours, how she liked making him smile, how she wanted to be close to him. Always.

And yet, that wasn’t even the most surprising thing. The most surprising thing was that she hadn’t realized it sooner.

He was the smartest person she knew, one of the most considerate, probably the most resilient. He was low-key in everything he did – which she liked immensely. He was shy and sensitive, catching every shift in her expression and tone and making sure she was okay. He knew exactly what to say (or when not to say anything), and he knew just how to make her laugh. He shared her interests, understood her feelings, sat close. She loved his quiet passion for writing, and when they were together and when he was happy. The distant memory of her hating his every gut seemed like memories of a different person. Because how, in god’s name, could she have hated him? How could she have not liked him sooner? Longer? Faster? He was wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.

When he noticed she was boring holes into him with her eyes, he looked at her. “Yeah?” he said, confused.

Betty blinked fast, swallowing, looking to the notebook in her hand. Something was jumping in her body. “Just thinking,” she muttered, her head doing burpees. _Oh my god oh my god oh my god._

 “Wanna watch a movie or something?” he offered, “I downloaded _Cold Blooded: The Clutter Family Murders.”_ His face lit up at his words.

She wanted to watch it with him so badly. Not to mention, the way he said _Cold Blooded: The Clutter Family Murders_ was perhaps the hottest thing ever. There it was. Definite attraction for his voice and his face and his personality. There was nothing else she could think about.

But no way was she going to watch the docuseries with him and risk exposing herself. Her sensible instincts kicked in and reminded her that she needed to get a hold of herself.

“I’m gonna sleep,” she replied, shaking her head. _Resist temptation._

“But it’s only seven-thirty,” he said, looking disappointed.

“Yep. Sleepy,” she replied quickly, not meeting his eye. She entered their room and shut the door behind her, feeling out of breath as if she had done a public speech in front of the whole town. She hoped she wasn’t obvious. It wasn’t as though Jughead was hyper-aware of how red her cheeks were, right? Plus, he didn’t seem too concerned, just confused that she was sleepy at seven-thirty on a Sunday night.

Maybe she just needed to sleep it off and things would cool down. Everything cooled down, eventually.

* * *

 

The next morning, things were car from cooling down. Betty woke up early and decided to walk to school without him to think things through.

Unfortunately, Jughead seemed to have woken up early, too. She heard running behind her. “Betty!” he called out.

She gave him a tight smile. “Hi,” she said, sticking her hands in the pockets of her coat. “Just thought I’d go for an early walk,” she explained. _Definitely not avoiding him._

She was hoping she wasn’t as red as she was feeling.

“I don’t mind waking up early,” he told her, shrugging. Seeing his nose red from the cold was adorable. _Stop thinking about how adorable he is._

“I know,” she answered, looking away.

He caught something in her expression. “You okay?” he asked considerately, his hand lightly touching her shoulder. Suddenly, she jerked away from his touch, feeling her entire body go through some sort of hot shock. He was surprised – maybe even offended – at her reaction, so he put his hand away.

“I’m okay,” Betty told him, touching her shoulder. It may have appeared she didn’t want him to touch her; but really, she wanted nothing more than for him to do so in that moment. But she wasn’t going to tell him that. _Be convincing._

He didn’t seem to buy her words. “But – ”

“Let’s just walk, okay?” she cut him off, beginning to walk quickly.

He, without a word, followed suit.

 

Class was no different. Jughead had asked the girl beside Betty if they could trade places. As he sat down next to her, he tried to spark conversation. “Ms. Smith’s late _again,”_ he said, lightly chuckling, looking at her expectantly. “Wanna bet what time she’ll come?” he asked, smiling at her hopefully.

She continued facing front. “Ha,” she said with no energy whatsoever. If she weren’t feeling that way, she’d bet that she’d arrive in 15 minutes.

He looked at her for a while before talking again. “Are you sure you’re okay, Betty?” he asked, voice full of concern.

She didn’t even want to look at him and see his face looking at her with the concern in his voice – she’d probably fall to the floor. _Stay strong._

“We can talk. Or, not talk,” he continued. “Is something going on? You can tell me.”

If only she could tell him that she had a crazy crush on him and now felt like a hot mess around him. Alas, she could not. It took her a lot of energy (and acting skills) to shoot him a look that read _I’m fine._

“Oh, yeah. Nothing. Just… not in the mood to talk today, you know?” she said, smiling casually but feeling immediately sorry for saying it. She looked away from him.

Jughead looked disappointed but understanding as he nodded. “Okay,” he told her, facing front.

She needed to get away from him. Because out of sight meant out of mind, right?

* * *

 

Tuesday, Betty had every intention of avoiding him. She had pinned the blame on their proximity. She woke up extra early and got ready and decided to take a long walk to school by herself. She figured that if she stayed away from him long enough, she’d be over it in no time.

When she arrived at school with only student athletes who were training early present, she was relieved to find Cheryl. She figured maybe all she needed was some guidance from her cousin, who seemed to be an expert on most things.

“Cheryl!”

Cheryl was dressed in Vixen training uniform, an ensemble that included shorts, which was an implausible feat given it was January. She turned around and smiled when she saw Betty. “Betty, hi. Morning training’s only for those with coordination issues. You’re doing just fine. Our training’s still after class,” Cheryl explained to her.

“Oh, I didn’t think we had training. I came early to school because… well, there’s something that’s been bugging me back at The Pembrooke,” she explained, sighing. Betty began to rub her hands together nervously. “Can we talk about it?”

“Of course we can,” she answered. “What’s up?”

Betty closed her eyes, feeling strange that she was going to say it out loud. “I have a crush on Jughead,” she blurted out, covering her face.

“Oh my god!” Cheryl reacted, her smile growing. “How wonderful!”

“What? It’s not wonderful, Cheryl. It’s horrible!” Betty exclaimed. “We have a really good friendship ongoing and now... it's gonna ruin everything. And I don’t know how to make it stop. I can’t act normal anymore. I’ve just been avoiding him before he finds out.”

Cheryl raised an eyebrow. “Betty, what makes you so sure your feelings are unrequited? I have never seen Jughead so engrossed in another person in my _life._ ”

Betty’s face twisted, figuring it was out of the question. Jughead saw her as a friend and only that, didn’t he? Was there anything he did that showed otherwise? She could not think of any. She thought Cheryl was delusional.

“That’s just ridiculous,” Betty told Cheryl, shaking her head.

“Not really.”

“No, it is. Point is: I can’t do anything about it. So what do I do?” she asked her, almost pleadingly. “I really, really like him. And now I feel _doomed_.”

“Really like who?” someone said behind her.

Betty turned around and came face to face with Jughead himself, who had come to school early, too, it seemed. Her heart began to beat ten times as fast. Her head was spinning. Could she really not get away from him for longer than an hour?

“Hi Jughead!” Cheryl greeted him, smiling, just as Betty instantly replied, “Reggie. Reggie Mantle. I really like Reggie Mantle.”

Jughead’s wide eyes seemed to show that he was greatly caught off guard by her reply ~~(as if he was hoping for another).~~   “Oh,” was all he said. Was he disappointed? She figured of course not. She was being delusional like Cheryl.

“Mhm. Reggie Mantle. What a hottie. I really like him,” Betty told him quickly, crossing her arms over her chest and nodding aggressively. She didn’t know why it was his name that came through her mind right away, but it was. She suddenly wished her cover-up crush wasn’t a guy she called a sleaze a few weeks ago.

“Really?” someone said behind her. Betty turned around and saw Reggie Mantle himself, holding a gym bag and looking like he thought he was king of the world.

Dear god. Was she just summoning everyone? She was pretty sure if she mentioned the devil at that moment, he might actually show up.

Reggie began to nod slowly, biting his lip in a ‘sensual’ way that sent Betty into a pit of vomit rising in her throat. “What can I say? I have that kind of effect. Even on girls like Betty Cooper, who try to think they’re above my charms,” he said breezily.

“Ew,” Cheryl commented.

“Uh-huh…” Betty tried to say convincingly, shooting him the most lovey-dovey smile she could.

She reminded herself that this was probably still better than confronting Jughead about her feelings.

“Not to hurt your feelings, though, but I’m just not interested, Cooper,” Reggie said cooly.

Betty wanted to not only punch herself in the face, but also punch Reggie. Either way, him outright rejecting her was far better than him liking her.

“Ohhhhh. That sucks,” she said, her tone half-sarcastic.

"See you around, though," he said, winking, before walking away in slow motion. Jughead just stared into space.

Cheryl gave Betty a look of disgust. “Please don’t make that guy my relative.”

Betty laughed awkwardly and gave Jughead a look, but he wasn't even looking at her. He was still distracted, his expression indiscernible. Did he buy it? How did he feel? Why was he looking like that?

“Well, the Vixens call. I need to go. I hope you deal with whatever you’re dealing with, Betty. Talk to you later. As always, I’m here,” Cheryl announced, giving Betty a sympathetic smile before going on her way.

It left her alone with Jughead, who was thoroughly shocked at the Reggie reveal.

“So… Reggie, huh?” Jughead said after their long awkward silence. He was still not meeting her eye. They were both tongue-tied.

“Mhm,” Betty said, nodding slowly. She was grateful they were at school early, which meant no one had seen her basically announce she liked (shudder) Reggie, though she knew the news would spread like wildfire given Reggie’s involvement in the Riverdale High gossip scene.

“Why are you at school early?” she asked after the silence, trying to change topic.

“I heard you leave early... I, uh… why are you early?” he asked. He still wasn’t looking at her. Was he… nervous?

“To see Reggie,” she lied. “I know he has football training in the mornings. It’s why I left early yesterday, too.”

He looked at his feet as he nodded. “Oh. Um, anyway, I thought you were ignoring me yesterday, not gonna lie,” he said, laughing lightly and casually, though he sounded strained. “It’s why I was worried when I saw you went out early. But… were you? Ignoring me?” he asked. He looked genuinely nervous to hear her reply.

She _was_ ignoring him. “Oh, I wasn’t,” she lied again. “Just, coming to terms with my feelings,” she told him. That was not a lie.

“I mean, you don’t _have_ to be ashamed of liking him, if that’s what you were worried about,” he comforted her, though he didn’t sound too convincing, though he gave her a reassuring smile. “You can tell me,” he continued. “No judgments. I’ve had some questionable crushes, too. Plus, Reggie’s…” he paused, trying to think of a compliment. “… good-looking,” he finished. It was probably the only compliment one could give Reggie, after all.

Betty forced a smile. “Well, now you know,” she said as firmly as she could.

“Cool.”

“Cool,” she said.

And then he finally looked at her, and the expression he gave her made her heart jump. There was something so… naked about his expression. Was that why he seemed to nervous and strained and odd? He seemed on edge, vulnerable, confused, lost. His eyes were trying to say something to her, even if his lips said nothing. A million questions came through her head, a million feelings rushing in her heart. Was something going on that she didn’t know about? Was he okay?

He looked at her eyes, then his gaze flickered to her lips, then her eyes again. His eyes scanned her entire face, as if he was contemplating something. Suddenly nothing else mattered, because why was he looking at her that way?

She wanted to talk to him, to reach out, to understand. But she knew she needed to commit to the lie so she would stop feeling what she was feeling. She was no use being his friend if she had feelings for him, anyway, right?

She needed to stay away from him. Because her feelings were only growing. And staying away from him, especially when she wanted nothing more than to do the opposite, was the best way to start.

Out of sight, out of mind.

And once she was over it, they would go back to normal. They’d be friends again and everything would be okay.

“Well, I’ll talk to you later,” she told him, looking away. It was a difficult thing to do.

It took him a while to reply. “Okay. Bye,” he said, tone distant. He looked away from her, too.

And all over again, Betty and Jughead were far away.


	17. Make Your Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the chapter title.

 

It had been three days since Betty and Jughead had a proper conversation. Her feelings were far from going away. Betty was still an awkward mess around him, while Jughead barely even looked at her. They had been avoiding each other for god-knows-what reasons, which led their friend group to question whether or not they hated each other all over again. (Oh, the irony.)

So it was due time that Veronica confronted Betty about the situation. “I was going to ask you this sooner, but I didn’t want to feed into gossip and I didn’t wanna believe it at all. Rumor has it you like Reggie. Is this true?” Veronica asked.

Betty shrugged. “Yeah.”

She realized earlier that telling Cheryl was a clumsy mistake. The more one talked about their feelings, the more those feelings grew. So as much as she wanted to tell Veronica, there was no way she was going to tell her because the last thing she needed was acknowledging what she wanted nonexistent.

Veronica’s face twisted. “ _Why?_ _”_

“He’s not as bad as people think,” Betty told her. It was half-true. He was probably much worse than people thought.

“No way. There’s just no way,” Veronica said, shaking her head, disbelieving.

“What makes you say that?”

Veronica gave her a look. “I mean… I don’t know what’s been going on with you lately, but this? It’s… If I didn’t know any better I’d say – ” she paused, then said nothing

“You’d say…?”

Veronica sighed before speaking again. “Does this have anything to do with Jughead?” she asked suddenly.

Betty’s eyes widened. “No!” she practically shouted, her whole face hot. Some girls turned their heads. Then, quietly, she said, “What makes you say _that?_ _”_

“Are you guys fighting? I haven’t seen you two talking since Tuesday,” Veronica told her. “I mean, these past few weeks, all you could do was talk to each other. But something’s changed. And I don’t wanna get too involved like I always do, but sometimes you two just need a little nudge, you know? So what’s up? I’m all ears.”

“Nothing is up,” she replied. “Just not in the mood to talk that much, that’s all.”

Veronica laughed, as if what Betty was saying was absurd. “ _Sure._ As if you and Jughead can ever get sick of talking to each other, B. Something’s up and _you_ _’_ _re_ not telling me.”

Betty turned away, not replying.

After seeing Betty’s lack of a reaction, Veronica came to some kind of realization, eyes widening. “OH MY GOD. Do you – do you LIKE Jughead?!” Veronica exclaimed, covering her mouth in shock.

“Huh?!”

“Do you?!”

“No! I don’t!” Betty answered. “Why the hell would I?”

“I can’t think of any reason why _NOT!_ _”_ Veronica shot back.

“We’re _friends._ Purely platonic,” Betty told her. “And that’s just _weird._ _”_

“Seriously? I’m not an idiot, B. Seventeen years of tension and now you’re trapped in my bedroom – ” Veronica started.

“Why do people keep saying we still have tension?”

“Get a physics lesson, Betty,” Veronica told her, smiling widely.

“I don’t follow.”

“Energy doesn’t _die._ It _recycles._ From platonic energy to _romantic_ and _sexual,_ _”_ Veronica said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“That’s not what the law of conservation of energy is, Veronica,” Betty said, sighing and shaking her head. She was hoping her cheeks weren’t the color of tomatoes, because what Veronica was saying was seriously bothering her. “Look, I don’t know how this got into your head – ”

“ _I_ _’_ _m_ not feeling any platonic energy,” Veronica interrupted. “I’m sure our friends can say the same.”

“What do you mean?” Betty said, eyebrow raised.

“You guys touch _a lot._ _”_

Betty was confused.

“I mean, Jughead _hates_ physical contact. I held his arm once and he had a body shock. I’ve seen him and Archie hug TWICE – one of which was at the hospital a few weeks ago. But he leans on you, touches your arm, and sits zero inches away,” Veronica explained.

Did he? Betty tried to ignore the way her heart flew at her words. But still. There was no way he liked her simply because he touched her arm sometimes. And him hugging her during hard times was different. She just happened to be there. Betty stared into space, thinking about what Veronica said, coming up with better explanations for what she was saying besides the idea of Jughead liking her back.

Veronica began snapping her fingers. “Did you hear me, B? _Zero inches._ Zero. Zero freaking inches away from each other – ”

“No way,” Betty denied, shaking her head into sense. “You’re seeing things wrong.”

“I think I know what zero inches looks like.”

“Not only that. _Everything!_

Veronica only grinned wider. “Not to mention, Betty, you are the moodiest person I know. It takes so much to make you even _smile._ And yet Jughead makes you laugh so much, it’s crazy.”

“I mean, he’s funny,” Betty said thoughtfully.

“Debatable. But hear me out, B. He totally has a crush on you too!” Veronica told her excitedly.

Betty’s eyes widened. “WHAT?!”

“I mean, he’s not a talkative guy. But around you, he’s just yapping and yapping about American true crime,” Veronica said, playfully rolling her eyes. “And every time he makes you laugh, it makes him want to try harder. It’s like your reactions fuel him to be annoying. Now look me in the eye and _tell_ me that’s still platonic energy.”

“Even _more_ crazy,” Betty said, shaking her head. Veronica was delusional, just like Cheryl.

“Is it? I said the same thing about Cheryl and Toni a few months ago,” Veronica said knowingly. “Look at them now.”

There was just no way.

Speaking of Cheryl… “Vixens! Get on your feet!” Cheryl announced from across the gym.

Betty needed to get away from Veronica. What she was saying was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. And it was making her feel all the wrong things – the things she was trying to avoid.

 

* * *

 

When Betty got home that day, she saw Jughead was reading a book again, looking tired. He was acting differently for sure. Betty noticed that he hadn’t written in three days. Betty knew this because she had gotten used to the beat his fingers made against the keys. And yet right now there was nothing.

“Your computer broken or something?” she asked him as she placed her gym bag on the couch. They hadn’t spoken in a while, and while Betty’s feelings were far from going away, she could not help but ask.

He seemed surprised that she talked to him. “Huh? Oh – um, no. Why?” he stuttered out.

“You haven’t written in… days,” she explained.

“Writer’s block,” he told her.

“Oh. Why?” she wondered. She wondered what caused writer’s block. What hindered creativity? Especially for someone like Jughead…

“Something’s just been… filling my mind lately,” he replied vaguely.

“Wanna talk about it?” she offered, not thinking twice of it. She shouldn’t have made that offer, because if he said yes –

“No,” he replied quickly, looking away.

Oh. Betty tried to ignore the fact that his disinterest in talking to her about whatever was bothering him offended her a little. He didn’t think she was unapproachable now, did he?

“Well, for what it’s worth, I hope whatever’s bothering you goes away soon,” she told him quietly, supplying him some I-still-am-your-friend-even-though-I-secretly-have-a-stupid-crush-on-you-that-you-don’t-know-about energy.

He sighed, still not meeting her eye. “I don’t think it’s going away soon.”

As much as she wanted to know, she knew she had talked too much already. So that was it. She needed to leave before the inevitable silence became unbearably awkward.

She went over to the kitchen and opened the fridge, looking for food to occupy herself with while trying to think about what could possibly be bothering Jughead so much that he had writer’s block.

As far as she knew, his dad was doing okay at rehab, though it didn’t automatically mean that he wouldn’t be worried about him. Maybe it was about his mom or sister? If it was about that… What if it was serious?

A cloud of anxiety filled her. If it was serious… then he needed her. The hell with her feelings. Who cared about her feelings? If he was going through something… the idea of him dealing with it alone scared her. It scared the hell out of her. And was she suddenly going to not be there for him simply because she had developed feelings for him?

She figured: her feelings may be big, but they weren’t more important than her friendship with Jughead. Nothing – not a crush on him – would keep her from being there for him. Especially when he needed her most.

She shut the fridge and headed back in the living room – except, Jughead was on his way to the kitchen too.

They bumped into each other. “Shit,” Jughead said under his breath, holding her shoulders. They hadn’t stood this close in days. Betty was hot and bothered, in close proximity with Jughead.

She looked up at him, slowly, her heart pounding out of her chest, and saw the way he was already looking at her – eyes darkened, breathing slow, blinking deliberate – a look full of… something.

No way. She was imagining it.

Betty stepped back suddenly, looking away from him.

“You here to eat?” she said, pushing her hair behind her ears.

“No, actually… I came here to talk,” he said nervously, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“Oh. I was on the way there to talk, too,” she told him quietly. “Um, are you okay?” she asked, her right hand grabbing her left wrist.

“Huh? Yeah, why?” he said, looking at her confused. She could see he was suddenly scared because of her question, though couldn’t pinpoint why.

“I mean… writer’s block. What else has been filling your mind? Is this about – is this about your…” she started, looking at him expectantly.

“About?” he began to look tense, as if he was hiding something.

“Your dad? Mom?” she offered, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Oh. No. No. Not about them,” he answered, shaking his head, though he looked relieved that that was what she thought. So clearly… it was something else. Something else was bothering him that wasn’t his mom or dad and he wasn’t telling her. A panic filled her. Was there something he was hiding?

Not knowing what to say, she nodded silently. And it had somehow gotten even more awkward.

“So we haven’t been talking much, huh?” he said after a bit.

“Yeah…” she said. “I just… I know it seems like I’ve been avoiding you…” Who was she kidding? She was, in fact, avoiding him. It was clear as day.

“It’s okay. You can say it. I mean, I’ve been avoiding you, too. Ever since…” he said, looking to the floor.

“Ever since you found out I liked Reggie?”

“No,” he answered quickly. “I mean, yeah. But not because I hate you or anything. In fact, it’s the oppos – I mean… I-I don’t take it…” he stuttered, still not looking at her, “I don’t take it against you that you like him. I mean… you like who you like, am I right?”

That she could agree on.

“Right. There’s no stopping it,” she said, turning to him and looking at him too long before turning away. “I just wish… I wish the feelings would go away. But whether I’m near him or not – it doesn’t matter. They’re still there. And seeing him everyday’s a constant reminder that he is _never_ gonna like me back,” she continued.

She was definitely not talking about Reggie.

But then something changed in his expression. As if he realized something. And as if he was… determined. “Well, he’s an idiot,” Jughead said firmly, and suddenly he wasn’t stuttering. _Abort beating heart._

“I mean, you get it. I’m not exactly likeable,” she told him, laughing as lightly as she could.

“Untrue,” he pointed out.

“You would know,” she replied. “You used to hate me.”

“That’s not completely true,” he corrected. shrugging.

Betty looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Huh? We’ve hated each other since we knew what the word ‘hate’ was, Jug.”

“I mean, yeah,” he said thoughtfully. “But…”

“But?”

“It wasn’t black and white. There were times when… okay, this is gonna sound weird, but sometimes, I didn’t hate you,” he explained, finally looking at her. “When we weren’t fighting… I always found it awesome that you planned every school event – from pep rallies to homecomings.”

“You hate that stuff, though,” she said, utterly confused.

“I mean, I’d still attend some of them. And they always turned out great. Or… when you reopened the dormant Blue and Gold – that was brave. Kind of always wanted to be part of the Blue and Gold, actually – anyway, what I mean is – you were the only one running it for a whole semester… That takes a _lot._ And, to be honest – believe it or not – in the eighth grade, I voted you student council president,” he said shyly, smiling to himself at the memory.

Surprised at his words, she tried to ignore the sparks that erupted in her stomach. Was he telling the truth? She couldn’t imagine Jughead appreciating her accomplishments in spite of their animosity. She couldn’t imagine him voting for her in any position of power. And yet… he had. He said he had. Why? Did he really believe in her, even then?

“I always admired that you balanced extracurriculars and still had the highest grades in our class,” he continued, looking at her with those soft blue eyes of his that she could not get enough of.

Her heart was beating faster and faster. She felt her heartbeat in every part of her. The way he was talking… it was as though… as though what?

“And when you weren’t glaring my way,” he began slowly, eyes not leaving her one split-second, “I’d think you were beautiful.”

Betty was pretty sure her heart stopped.

“I would think maybe – just _maybe_ _–_ if Betty Cooper was nicer,” he started, and Betty laughed, “I’d have a crush on her.”

No, Betty was absolutely sure it did.

“It took me a while to realize,” he continued, “but then… a few weeks ago… I realized recently, that you _are_ nicer. And I’ve been an idiot for a while.”

And it was then that she realized that her feelings were far from unrequited. _She_ was his writer’s block. Because he liked her, too. He seemed to have come to the same realization about her, because he looked determined to let her know.

“So, yeah, Reggie’s an idiot if he doesn’t like you back,” he told her firmly, breathing nervously, though his face was hopeful.

“I wasn’t talking about Reggie,” she told him. “I was talking about _you,_ Jughead.”

“I was hoping for that,” he said, the cutest, most endearing smile on his face.

Did she really just say that? She was looking at him with the same determination he gave her.

Was he really just looking at her like that? She looked down to think it through, then looked at him again, but his eyes hadn’t left her at all. He considered her for a moment, eyes traveling her entire face. It was so quiet; she could hear her own heartbeat. She could not stop looking at him, either.

He stepped forward. She was reminded right away of that time in Veronica’s bathroom. Eyes on her, her heart beating out of her chest, her chest breathing deeply, deeply wondering what the hell was going on, on about what was just about to happen.

Except this time was different.

Betty stepped forward too so they were only about a foot away from each other. She looked in his eyes, then lower. She looked at his lips, remembering exactly what they felt like and tasted like against her own. But the memory wasn’t enough.

“You know, all I could think about ever since we kissed… all I could think about…” he blinking slowly, almost breathing his words out. “… was kissing you again.”

He gave her the same look he had given her a few minutes ago: a look of longing, pining, desire.

And slowly, almost teasingly, he stepped forward again and brought his hands to her face, his thumbs on her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around her neck, bringing his face closer.

“Then kiss me again,” she breathed out.

He smiled the most beautiful smile, leaning in. And as they closed their eyes, his lips finally met hers again.

Betty kissed him back, his hands in her hair, and she pulled his face closer. It was a gentle kiss at first, tentatively making the most out of every second. Their lips moved against each other, slowly, softly, tenderly. She felt her entire chest flutter – no, _fly_ _–_ because this seemed impossible a mere 24 hours ago. And now…

He pulled away suddenly to look at her, eyes dark. “God, I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he said as if out of breath.

“Then don’t stop,” she whispered, kissing him again.

And this time, an explosion. A million things at once. Everything building up the past weeks, exploding into their kiss. She pulled him even closer and deeper, unable to get enough.

There was an urgent groan that escaped his lips as her mouth opened against his. He pushed her against the counter so she could lean on it, his hands running down her waist. She had his hands up and down his chest. She felt his tongue, feeling insanely overwhelmed at how good of a kiss it was, of how good a kisser he was.

Was it even physically, cosmically possible to make her feel such a rush?

He pulled away again, but this time to kiss her other places. He brought a hand to the side of her face, tilting her head so he could begin kissing her jaw, her neck, making hew quiver in every spot. His beanie fell to the floor as Betty began to run her hands through his hair.

And then the front door opened.

“I have burgers!” Veronica’s voice announced from the other room.

Jughead’s mouth left her, and the spots his lips touched suddenly felt cold without him. They shot their eyes opened and looked at each other.

“Shit,” Betty whispered.

He stepped back and she moved to fix her hair. And as much as she didn’t want to, she wiped her mouth, wiped the side of her neck, wiped him off of her.

She looked at Jughead, lips swollen and hair messy. She wanted badly to kiss him again, so she fought the urge as she got his beanie and put it back on his head to cover the mess of his hair.

“Purse your lips. Act normal. Stop breathing loud,” she whispered to him, fixing his shirt.

“Okay,” he whispered.

“We can’t tell anyone right away, right?” she said.

“Right. Gotta take it slow,” he agreed, giving her a smile.

“Keep it low-key.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.” She smiled at him. It would be nice to keep things low-key. There was a lot to process, and the last thing they needed were over-excited friends wanting to know every single detail. Besides, there was something so sexy about keeping a little secret (just for now).

She was happy that there was zero regret this time around. Because she didn’t know if she could stand another kiss aftermath, awkwardly hanging around him and not saying a word. This time, she would be able to kiss him again.

“Um, wait, messy,” he said, looking at her head and then lightly combing her hair with his fingers. She looked at him once more. How had she not kissed him sooner? How had she resisted so long? Him just brushing her hair was making her feel all sorts of things. He stepped back and smiled at her, making her heart melt.

Veronica was in the room soon enough. “Burgers for everyone! As always, no ketchup for Betty,” she announced, placing a Pops takeout on the counter.

“Yay,” Jughead said, though it sounded so deadpan. Clearly, he would rather kiss Betty than eat burgers, which was saying something. “Thanks.”

Veronica was confused at his lack of enthusiasm. “You guys okay?”

“Yup,” Betty said, looking to the floor and nodding quickly.

Jughead folded his lips. “Mhm.”

“Pretty hot in here, huh?” Veronica said, brushing away the general awkwardness surrounding Betty and Jughead.

“What? No,” Betty said defensively.

“Temp’s fine for me,” Jughead added. “Very cold, actually.”

They were being way too protective; it was a miracle Veronica wasn’t suspicious.

“Really? I’ll adjust the heater. It’s too warm,” Veronica commented casually, heading to the wall to adjust it. When she wasn’t looking, Betty couldn’t help but giggle a little at a very nervous Jughead. “You guys have been so quiet lately. You fighting or something? What’s the deal?” she asked them as she made the room colder.

“Just tired,” Jughead said.

“Hungry,” Betty replied.

“Sounds about right, but usually Jughead’s the hungry one and Betty’s the tired one,” Veronica said with a laugh, turning around to look at them. “Go ahead, eat, Jughead. I’ll wait for Archie,” she commented when she saw how hard Jughead was eyeing the paperbag.

He smiled, taking a burger and beginning to dig in.

Speaking of Archie, the doorbell rang. “That’s him!” said Veronica excitedly, going away to greet her boyfriend.

Betty and Jughead gave each other a knowing, slightly mischievous smile. There was no way they were going to tell anybody just yet. And finally, for now, their little secret.


	18. Things Unsaid and Undone

It had been exactly twenty-three minutes since Betty and Jughead kissed, and the conversation that ensued over the Pops takeout meal Veronica brought home was practically unbearable given the interrogative nature of Archie and Veronica and overall transparency of Betty and Jughead. It suddenly occurred to them that keeping them a secret was going to be a tiring, active effort.

“You two are so quiet. Do you guys hate each other again?” Archie said, laughing as he took a bite of his burger and looking at his two friends in front of him.

Betty, who wasn’t hungry, decided to just take a giant bite of her burger to avoid answering the question. Unfortunately for Jughead, who had finished his three burgers two minutes ago, could only stare at his best friend. “Um, no,” he said as casually as he could after what seemed to be a forever silence.

Veronica raised an eyebrow at them suspiciously. “I swear to god, no matter how hard I try, I will never fully understand the nature of your relationship,” she said, shaking her head.

“Friends,” Betty blurted out quickly, her mouth still full of food. She cursed herself over the fact that her tense disposition was making her have bad table manners.

“Yup, friends,” Jughead supplied, shrugging awkwardly. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Okay…” Veronica nodded at his reply, still doubtful of their odd demeanor. Then, she said the worst possible thing: “We should go out tonight.”

Jughead shook his head. “We have a lot of stuff to do,” he said.

Betty nodded in agreement. “Yup. Lots of work. Maybe next week?” she suggested. They were strongly against the idea of not getting to spend more time together. And staying up late to watch movies with the two people they were most likely they were to slip in front of was least ideal.

“Come _on,_ you guys. It’s a Friday night! There’s a double feature at The Bijou, no doubt. Then we can get even _more_ Pops after,” Veronica told them, wiggling her eyebrows.

On any other day, they would be sold on that. But it was so ill-timed and risky that for the given moment, they wanted nothing more than to stop it.

“I think they’re showing Ferris Bueller’s Day Off,” Archie supplied.

Betty and Jughead looked at each other. These were their best friends. And Veronica was seriously too nice to turn down. So, deciding that they would just try their very best to survive the next few hours, they yielded.

 

There was way too much tension during the movie. Betty and Veronica sat in the middle, Jughead beside Betty and Archie beside Veronica. It was just enough so maybe Betty and Jughead could have a private conversation, maybe have their arms touch. But that was far from what had transpired earlier that afternoon – and god, was it exasperating having to sit through two whole movies, barely saying words, starved for much more than light touches.

Of all the Fridays. They were truly out of luck.

 

It didn’t help that once they got back, Veronica decided it would be even greater if they pulled an all-nighter and played board games. Betty and Jughead tried their best not to, but Veronica tugged on their competitive strings.

“I mean, Betty, Jughead – you have to release your reserved competitive energy _somewhere._ _”_

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Betty said, eyebrows furrowed.

“Energy doesn’t _die_ – _”_

“Oh my god. Here we go again,” Betty interrupted, covering her face.

“So… you two _must_ be dying to clash again,” Veronica told them, wiggling her eyebrows.

Jughead was more confused than ever. “What are we? Kids?”

“Jughead, don’t you want a rematch? For your defeat in the pranking war?” Veronica offered, turning to him. Betty smiled to herself – Veronica had no idea what she was talking about. Jughead was _so_ over that.

He was silent for a bit. But then his answer surprised Betty. “That wasn’t really a _defeat._ I let her win,” Jughead said proudly.

Betty’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me? You caved so easily,” she told him, crossing her arms over her chest and narrowing his eyes at him.

She couldn’t stand that flirty, knowing look he gave her. It said everything. Both cute and terribly frustrating – because of what he was saying, but also because she really, really, wanted to kiss him again. But of course she couldn’t. “I just wasn’t up for playing a game without any real competition,” he told her, nonchalant and teasing.

Oh boy. There was no way he just said that. “You literally said ‘you win’ and bought me the milkshake!” she argued.

He shrugged. “Like I said, barely a competition.”

“Your hair was red for a _week,_ _”_ she countered.

“Then you got lazy and took my computer. A hundred to zero really quick,” he answered, all blasé on his end and exasperating on hers.

“I _cannot_ believe you!” she exclaimed, rolling her eyes – but in the most playful way. But also: serious competition. “You’re rewriting history. I can’t believe you’re trying to take my win.”

“Yes! Team Betty!” Veronica said excitedly, clasping her hands together.

“Come on, Ron. Jughead managed to get Betty to eat ketchup THRICE in a day,” Archie argued. “That counts a lot more than getting my great hair color.” He was a firm believer that Jughead won – and he only reluctantly told his best friend to surrender the last time. It seemed, Archie shared Jughead’s judgments.

Betty frowned. “Well, Kevin was on my side, so…”

“And Toni was on mine, so…” Jughead shot back, mocking her tone.

Betty turned to Veronica. “How about Cheryl? What did she think?”

“She wasn’t team anyone,” Veronica answered.

Betty and Jughead looked at each other and said the same thing. “Rematch.”

“In the form of a board game, as V suggested,” Betty added.

“Woah woah woah – ” Archie interrupted, shaking his head. “Do we really want them fighting again?”

Veronica laughed. “Geez, Archie. Have a little more faith in them.”

Betty and Jughead gave each other a knowing look. Archie really lacked faith in them. Little did he know…

“Okay then. But if Betty’s ponytail gets pulled… it’s not on me,” Archie responded, putting his arms up.

“We’re not _kids,_ Arch. He’s not gonna pull on my pigtails,” Betty told him.

“Let the record show that even as kids, I never pulled on Betty’s pigtails,” Jughead interjected. And then he looked at her.

Betty looked at him in amused disbelief. Jughead was challenging her right after their kiss. Veronica was right – maybe there was some leftover competitive energy somewhere. So while Betty would very much rather spend the night with Jughead in their room… proving to him that _she_ won didn’t sound too bad, either.

There was a mischievous glint in his eyes. He was thinking the exact same thing.

Veronica stood up, deciding to get things ready. “A rematch it is.”

 

It was a good game of Monopoly. In the end, the winner was clearly the business-minded Veronica. Archie was bankrupt, making him the instant loser. So what Betty and Jughead were actually fighting for was second place. And they were not going down without a fight.

Betty shut her eyes tight and took her time shaking the dice in her hand, as if it would make some sort of cosmic difference if she shook the dice ten times harder. Jughead’s eyes were serious and narrowed while he played. Betty couldn’t help but look at him for long periods of time, finding his focus annoying and adorable at the same time (but mostly the latter). When she wasn’t looking, she could feel his eyes on her, too. It was excruciating. But she needed to focus. She had to win.

“Fourteen hundred,” Betty said, smirking at Jughead, who just landed on her property. God bless Boardwalk. It helped that she started taking more risks.

He sighed, and Archie, who was the Banker, gave Betty her due.

A few rounds later, Betty went bankrupt. Veronica and Jughead seemed personally out to get _her._ Betty was livid. She thought Veronica was on her side! Betrayal truly happened during a game of Monopoly. She covered her face and screamed into her palm, annoyed and wishing she had done some things differently sooner (like a few other things, because Veronica’s timing was beyond the opposite of impeccable).

Jughead grinned, satisfied. He lost to Veronica, naturally, but felt like a winner that he beat Betty. And while Betty was irritated as hell, she still managed a smile when she saw how happy he was. Seriously, how had she not kissed him sooner?

Veronica made hot chocolate and they all sat around the living room, talking nonsense and their futures, the way friends did. Quality time. And soon enough, they all were dead asleep on the couch, Betty lightly snoring while her head fell on Jughead’s shoulder. Though their plans had changed severely, she wouldn’t have ended it any other way.

 

* * *

 

The following day, Betty and Jughead were adamant on spending time together – alone. It was unfortunate, though, that Jughead got word that there was an eviction notice outside his door and he had a week to get his belongings out, or else.

He was embarrassed and disappointed telling her this before their plans to go out for lunch. “How about tomorrow, instead?” he offered shyly over breakfast.

Betty gave him a soft look. “Jughead, I’ll come with you.”

“You do not want to enter Sunnyside Trailer Park, believe me,” Jughead said, shaking his head. She noticed he was barely eating his pancakes. Jughead not eating was truly a heartbreaking sight. This was bothering him – seeing his childhood home, left by his father… it didn’t necessarily spark one’s appetite. And Betty would be damned if she made him go alone.

“I want to go with you and be there for you,” Betty told him sincerely, putting her hand over his. He smiled at her softly. It had been too long since they kissed. Too risky. Speaking of risky –

Veronica entered. Betty quickly moved her hand away and stuffed half a pancake in her mouth.

 

She still remembered the very first time she had seen Jughead’s home. It came to her again when they arrived. And the last time they had been here, things had been more different.

A messy yard (though yard was a generous word for it), dusty windows, the smell of smoke and grass. Betty held Jughead’s hand as they walked towards the trailer he had grown up in. She could only imagine the history behind every square foot of the place. It was a glaring reminder of his childhood. He squeezed her hand as they stepped inside.

Betty had never been inside before. It was a mess, untouched. This was where FP Jones II was before his accident. Beer bottles, rotten pizza, the TV still plugged in, a flickering lamp in the corner.

“Jesus.” Jughead’s breathing had gotten heavier. Betty put her arms around him, embracing him from the side.

He put his arm around her shoulder. Strange that it wasn’t so strange to be so physical with him. It felt… right.

“I remember the first time we drove by here. Me and Archie and Archie’s dad… you ran out and said you didn’t want to come with us. I don’t know why I still remember that,” she told him.

“I remember that too, actually,” he answered.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I was so embarrassed. Betty Cooper and Archie seeing my house – while you two lived on Elm Street,” he said, chuckling lightly. “I still am. Embarrassed. I mean – look at this place.”

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Thank you.”

After a silence, she spoke again. “Why didn’t you come with us that day?” she wondered. He didn’t budge that day. He insisted beyond reproach to not come with them.

He was quiet before he answered. “That was a day after my mom left,” he explained. “I couldn’t find her. or JB. My dad hadn’t been home in days. I don’t even – I don’t even remember a lot of it. Just that I didn’t want Archie to find out. Or you.”

“God,” she whispered, moving in front of him and looking right at him. “I’m sorry, Jughead. You were so young. What the hell? How could she leave you just like that?”

“I can’t think of one good reason,” he answered, looking at her.  “Thank you for being here, Betty. It means the whole world to me.”

“Of course.” She smiled and hugged him, her head on his chest.

Betty brought out the garbage bag they got, then the boxes. “You start packing what you want to keep while I’ll clean up.”

“I can clean up – ” he started, not wanting to give her the dirtier task.

“No. It’s okay. I don’t know what you’d want to keep,” she said.

He looked at her for a bit before leaning in to kiss her. A soft, quick kiss that said just enough but left her wanting more. “Thank you. Seriously.”

As they worked, Betty looked at Jughead from time to time. He spent long moments staring at old pictures, smiling sometimes, but mostly looking a mix of sad and angry. He looked so vulnerable, not even wearing his beanie, no walls up. Just too many emotions for a seventeen-year-old boy. Life should not have been too harsh on him. He did not deserve it at all.

 

When Betty finished cleaning, Jughead was still in the middle of sorting through mementos. She sat beside him on the kitchen table, silently watching him. They didn’t have to say much. It was enough that they were there together.

Jughead came across an old spiral notebook that was folded in half and ruined. He flipped through it. “My old diary.”

Betty’s eyes widened. He handed it to her and she began giggling as she read it aloud. “ _Archie has smelly feet_ _…_ _Betty talks too much like a chipmunk_ ,” she said, smiling. He spelled chipmunk as _chipmungc._ “ _Why is Archie taller than me?_ Ha. Well, you’re taller than him now. _”_

Jughead smiled. “That, I am.”

“You had the cutest handwriting,” she said, admiring it.

He looked at her, eyes looking at her lips, smile growing wider. Betty turned to him and blinked slowly. Even in the bad lighting of the trailer, the blueness of his eyes was unmistakable.

Too much tension. The movie, the Monopoly game, the longing stares and wistful glances, short laughs and brief touches. It felt like ages.

He moved his chair closer to hers, eyes not leaving her at all. Betty cupped his face with her hands, leaning in slowly, feeling his warm breath on her lips before they finally kissed – the kiss she had been craving since yesterday. His lips moved against hers, steadily and firm, as he brought his hands around the nape of her neck, pulling her closer. Her head was spinning, veins throbbing – but in the best way possible.

And as the kiss deepened, his tongue slipping in her mouth, their movements became hurried, desperate, faster. She was so out of breath so suddenly; it was almost ridiculous.

His hands traveled to her waist, nervous to head a little higher.

Betty briefly ended the kiss, opening her eyes to look at him and to catch her breath. She didn’t know how far they were planning to go – in Jughead’s childhood home, no less, while they had only kissed the day before. Still, she wanted to make sure it was okay for him. She was sure all of this was overwhelming. “Are you okay?” she asked him, her heart pounding.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. “You?”

“Mhm,” she answered. “Are we – um, are we just going to kiss?” she asked him. It seemed like such a silly question, but she honestly had no idea. She wanted to do more than just kiss – truly. But she didn’t want to move too fast. Or if Jughead wasn’t down for it –

He seemed caught off-guard by the question. He swallowed. “I – yeah,” he replied, looking down. “I didn’t – I don’t have a, you know… I don’t have … protection.”

Betty smiled at how bashful he got at her question. Then it occurred to Betty that they hadn’t necessarily discussed the nature of their relationship. Yes, they confessed their feelings. And kissed. And they held hands. But were they boyfriend-girlfriend? Was it too soon to discuss? Was it the right time to talk about it? She had never felt so seriously for anybody before. And her relationship with Jughead was as confusing and complicated as ever.

He closed his eyes tight, almost nervous, as if he was contemplating something. It was so endearing it warmed her heart. Then, as if reading her mind, he said what she had been wanting to say.

“I’m serious about you,” he said firmly. “About this. About us. And, I’m just going to say it. I really, really like you and I want us… I want to be your boyfriend. For us to be boyfriend-girlfriend. That kind of thing. I want to go on dates with you and be with you and be there for you. And… I don’t know, maybe you don’t want to be serious, which I will understand. But I’m just putting it out there. I know it’s a gamble, and yes, maybe it won’t work out. But I’m all in.”

It was crazy how big her smile got. Her and Jughead. Boyfriend and girlfriend. “Then let’s gamble.”

He smiled, his eyes the happiest part of his face.

It seemed out of character for Jughead Jones of all people to be ready to commit so easily, and to initiate it with such affirmation at the very least. But when it came to Betty Cooper, the only out of character thing Jughead could ever do was stay away from her.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always appreciated! :)


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